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ECHOING AND RE-ECHOING 


% ♦ • 

BY 

FAYE HUNTINGTON 

\ • 

AUTHOR OF “THOSE BOYS,” “DR. DEANE’S WAY,” 
“MRS. DEANE’S W^AY,” ETC. 


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BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 


library of CONGRESS 
Two Cooies Received 

JUL 19 J906 



Copyright, 1878, by D. Lothrop and Company. 
Copyright, 1906, by Theodosia M. Foster. 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


Norfaooli iPreos; 

Berwick & Smith Co., Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 


CONTENTS. 


Cmaftbr. Paa»> 

1. — Beginnings 7 

2. — Echoes from The Past 22 

3. — A Successful Experiment 32 

4. — Miss Elmer^s Sacrifice 42 

5. — Fulfilling The Law 53 

6. — Helen’s Opportunities 63 

7. — For Christ’s Sake 75 

8. — A Dinner-Table Talk 86 

9. — Going Forward 95 

10. — Helen Gets Ahead 105 

11. — Several Surprised People 115 

12. — Helen’s Pronouns 128 

iii. 


iv. Contents. 

13. — “And Peter” 142 

14. — The End of the Quarrel 161 

15. — Surprises 175 

16. — Called Early 190 

17. — Mrs. Moshier is Disturbed 200 

18. — Leaving The Ranks 216 

19. — Mr. Harley Speaks 229 

20. — Helen and Tom 242 

21. — Helen Decides a Question 255 

22. — Christian Giving 271 

23. — Fragments 284 

24. — Up The Mountain 297 


“ Speaking once upon the hill tops, hill after hill took up 
the sound until the whole air was hiled with my single 
words, and it seemed as if a thousand voices more powerful 
than my own were throwing back the words spoken by me. 
So every minister ought to have a repeating churchy and 
every living heart in it ought to take up the sermon in its 
essential truths, and reverberate it until the whole moral 
air around him is full of echoing and re-echoing/* 




ECHOING AND EE-ECHOING. 


CHAPTER I. 


BEGINNINGS. 

*‘GO WOBK TO-DAY IN MY VINEYABD.” 



WO young men, Robert Niles and Nev 
ton Clark, met as they were hurrying 
one up, the other down, George street. Thej 
forgot their hurry, forgot that there was any busi 
ness in the world to need their attention, in 
their surprise and pleasure. They had been 
college classmates, and since the day of their 
graduation they had not met until now, here on 
the busy street. 

“Well,” said Newton Clark, “where from, 
when, and for how long ? ” 


7 


8 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


“From Chicago, yesterday, and probably for 
years ; perhaps for all time,” returned the other, 
laughing ; then by way of explanation added : “ I 
expect to go in with Smith & Ryle. And now 
may I ask of you where, what, and how?” 

“ Oh, I am a fixture back here among the hills, 
a staid, steady-going farmer, with a wife and a 
baby. I am glad that you have come back to 
stay.” Then, as if a new thought had come to 
him : “ I say. Bob, you are the very man we 
want up in our neighborhood. I believe the 
Lord brought about this meeting of ours, to-day, 
for a purpose. It gives me a chance to get your 
ear before you get crowded with other work.” 

“ Well, what are you driving at ? ” asked Mr. 
Niles. 

“Just this, we want a man to run a Sunday- 
school up there in the Clarkson neighborhood. 
There is a circuit of — I don’t know how many 
miles, and not a single church-going man to be 
found there. It is a grand opening for some one 
who wants to work for the Lord.” 

“ Humph I why don’t you step into it your- 
self?” 

“ For several reasons,” returned Mr. Clark. 


Beginnings. 


9 


** The principal one being that I have charge of 
a school at the Hollow, and have not time to at- 
tend to another unless I give up going to church. 
Now if 3’ou will take that place I will take you 
out as we go from the Sunday-school here, and 
bring you back to the evening service. What 
do you say. Bob ? ” 

“ I say that I couldn’t think of undertaking 
such a thing,” returned Bob Niles, with a sensa- 
tion that was as near shame as anything. 

“ You don’t mean to say that you have not 
been used to it — that is, to work of this sort?” 
he asked. 

“ I do mean just that, Newton. So you see I 
could not do it. I am not your man, after all ; 
and you will have to conclude that if the Lord 
had anything to do with our meeting to-day it 
was for some other purpose.” 

“ No,” said Mr. Clark, “ I shall not conclude 
that just yet. Because you have not is no rea- 
son why you should not, and I will not take 3’our 
answer now. We will both turn the matter 
over prayerfully, and I’ll see you again.” 

“ No use ; you may have my answer now. I’m 


10 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

sorry to refuse you, Newton. Ask me anything 
in my line and I’ll be ready to favor you.” 

And so after a little more pleasant talk the 
friends parted. Newton Clark went on his way, 
thinking sadly of that blessed winter season, five 
years back, when Robert Niles and himself, with 
many more, had dedicated themselves to the 
Lord Jesus Christ. It was remembering the 
zeal of the young convert that had led him to 
make the proposition from which his friend had 
turned almost scornfully. But he said to him- 
self: “I can but think that Bob only wants 
rousing a little. He is a noble fellow, and I 
can’t help believing that the Lord has work for 
him to do up there among the Clarkson people,” 
and he went home to pray for it. 

Meantime Mr. Niles was concluding his ar- 
rangements with Smith & Ryle, and saying to 
himself : “ That’s just like Newt ; he is just the 
same eager, over-zealous fellow that he used to 
be. I knew he would turn out a fanatic some 
day. Well, his religion means something. I 
am afraid he misunderstood me. I hope he 
didn’t go off thinking that I am not with him in 
heart, though I cannot take up the work he 


Beginnings. 


11 


thinks I ought.” "Why not f This was the ques- 
tion that presented itself forcibly to his mind, 
and insisted upon being considered. Indeed, 
why not f There was no answer to fit the ques- 
tion, and be was much disturbed by his failure 
to satisfy himself. Of course he would not^ that 
much was settled. He would do something, of 
course. They would need money up there to 
start a school, and Robert Niles actually thought 
to settle the matter with his conscience by giv- 
ing a few dollars from his thousands. Sabbath 
morning came, and he went to the old familiar 
church on Court street. There had been a 
change of ministers in his five years’ absence ; 
he missed the dear old man who had long been 
his pastor; but he liked the face and manner .of 
the stranger, and prepared to listen to the ser- 
mon, hoping to enjoy it. But when in clear, 
distinct tones the pastor announced his text, 
“ Go work to-day in my vineyard,” he almost 
lost his self-possession, so surely did these words 
seem meant for him. The preacher sought to 
bring the truth home to the heart of every dis- 
ciple of Christ, that work for the advancement 
of his cause is a duty and a blessed privilege : 


12 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


that “we are called into God’s vineyard not 
merely to eat the fruit of it, nor simply to bask 
in its pleasant shade, but first of all to work for 
our Master ; called to follow Christ first on 
earth, not first in heaven, not first in glory ; 
first the cross, afterward the crown.” It was 
urged that each one should ask for himself, 
“ What wilt thou have me to do ? ” and when 
the answer should come, as it surely would if 
sought in sincerity, that there be no shrinking 
— no shirking, 

Mrs. Niles was an invalid — not one of the 
nervous sort, nor one, whose aches and pains 
had absorbed her thoughts and interests. On 
the contrary, she had a lively interest in the 
world outside, and her children brought their 
bits of news, their own pleasures, and also their 
perplexities and trials, to “ mother’s room.” 

“Well, Robert,” she said, as her son came in 
from church, “how do you like our pastor? ” 

He hesitated. 

“ Well, mother, to tell the truth I haven’t 
thought about him. I have been fighting a bat- 
tle. You know about Newt Clark’s proposition ? 
I was sure that I would not do it ; but to-day’s 


Beginnings. 


13 


sermon made it clear that to shirk it is to sin, 
I saw Clark this evening, and told him that I 
would ride up there this week and look over the 
ground.” 

Mrs. Niles smiled, and said : 

“Well, Robert, I wish you God-speed. And 
I can tell you that taking up work at once as 
you are beginning your business life here will 
make it much easier than if you had waited un- 
til business cares absorbed your thoughts. Rob- 
ert your father would have been glad.” 

But that sermon had its lesson for others be- 
side Robert Niles. Mr. and Mrs. Norton Graves 
lived a mile or two out of town. As they were 
driving home Mr. Graves said : 

“ Well, Clara, the parson brought things pretty 
close home to your folks to-day, didn’t he ? ” 

Mr. Graves was not a Christian, and he was 
a little bitter toward Christians in general, and 
toward a few in particular. He liked to heai 
what he called home thrusts from the pulpit. 
For his part, so he was wont to express himself, 
he thought that church-members needed plain 
talk as well as sinners. He knew some that 
were no better for their professions. 


14 


Echoing and Re-Echoing. 


While Mrs. Graves was a follower of Christ, 
it must be confessed that hers was not that close 
following which brings the disciple into the very 
presence of the Master, and makes the life ra- 
diant with the joy and peace that grows out of 
the communion. Especially was she lacking in 
the grace of meekness, and her husband’s raillery 
generally irritated her. She would say : 

“ It is no excuse for you, Norton Graves, and 
you know it. No matter how I live, you’ve got 
to stand by yourself at last.” To-day she an- 
swered, softly : 

“ Yes, Norton, he did ; so close that I feel it, 
and I am going to work. And I don’t mean to 
belong to the ‘ Igo^ eir ’ family either. I am in 
dead earnest.” 

“ When are you going to begin ? ” asked her 
husband, good-humoredly. “Am I your first sub- 
ject?” 

“ I am going to begin just where Mr. Reid ad- 
vised ; at home^ in my own soul. I am going to 
root out some of the weeds that have been 
choking the growth of the good. You needn’t 
tell me there is a chance for hard work and 


Beginnings. 


15 


plenty of it. I know it ; and, Norton, there is 
so much to do that I shall need your help.” 

Slie said this as he helped her from the car- 
riage, and as he drove over to the stables he said 
to himself, or to his horse : 

“ Whew I Who would have thought it } Now 
I suppose I shall have a pious wife in earnest. 
Heretofore her religion has not caused a very 
marked difference in our ways of thinking and 
doing, but if she gets up an enthusiasm over it, 
it might be inconvenient. I guess, upon the 
whole, ril keep quiet and not arouse any 
stronger feeling by ridiculing her.” 

Meanwhile, in her own room, upon her knees, 
Mrs. Graves was confessing her unfaithfulness 
to her covenant vows, and asking direction as to 
the way in which the Lord would have her 
work. Could her husband have heard that 
prayer he must have felt that there was a differ^ 
ence ; that though she had been influenced and 
led by him so that she had for the time lost her 
hold upon Christ, yet having been adopted into 
the family of the Father, there was a difference 
which, unless he would consent to receive the 
renewing grace, would separate them forever. 


16 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


When they met at the dinner table they did not 
renew the subject, he acting upon his resolution, 
and she from dread of his sarcastic remarks. 
But toward evening he said : 

“ Clara, would you like to go down town to 
church this evening ? ” 

“Why, can we go?” she replied, surprised, for 
they never went to church, evenings. 

“ Certainly we can, I suppose we might go 
every Sunday evening if we tried,” he said smil- 
ing. If you are going to undertake that job you 
spoke of you’ll need all the help you can get,” 
he added with a wicked sort of laugh. 

Norton,” she said; then, hesitating, 
“ I’ll tell you what I should like better than 
going out Sabbath evenings. If I only could go 
down to the Thursday evening prayer-meeting I 
It would be such a help,” and there were tears 
in her eyes. 

“ Wh}^, Clara, I never objected to your going 
to prayer-meeting.” 

“ No, but I want 3’’ou to go too,” she said, 
timidly. 

“ Oh I I thought Fd be your next subject, but 
I didn't expect you would get to me quite so 


Beginning i, 17 

soon ; got that work in your own heart all done 
already ? ” 

'‘^Please^ Norton, I want to tell you that as 
our lives are so linked together that — well, some 
women might — but for me, I can not grow 
toward heaven unless the good seed is springing 
up in your heart also.” 

He made no reply, but brought around the 
carriage and they went to church, to the surprise 
of several people ; among them was Mr. John 
Graves, or Professor Graves, as he was desig- 
nated. He knew the ways of his brother’s fam- 
ily so well that he wondered what unusual cir- 
cumstance had brought them out in the evening, 
and he said to his sister-in-law as they came out 
of church : 

“ What in the world brought you from your 
retirement on a Sabbath evening ? ” 

With a little surprised air she replied : 

“ Why, didn’t you hear the sermon this morn- 
ing?” 

“ Yes, I heard it, but I don’t see the connec- 
tion exactly.” 

“Don’t you? Well, what is more natural 
than being persuaded that we ought to work, 


18 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

that we should come to find out what to do, and 
howto do it ? ” said Mrs. Graves, not so lightly, but 
the brother-in-law detected the undertone of 
seriousness, and he replied, gravely : 

“ That is a good idea, Clara ; T hope you’ll 
make Norton think so. Good-night.” 

Professor Graves was tlie principal of the 
nigh-school. He was a Christian man ; he 
opened school with devotional exercises ; he was 
particular about the deportment of his pupils, 
looking after their moral interests. His pupils 
liked him ; he was social and mingled much 
with them in a free and easy w'ay, but he had 
never led one of them to Christ. That sermon 
had set him to thinking, and going home that 
evening, after the bit of a talk with his brother’s 
wife, he said to himself (he had no wife to talk 
to) : 

“ Well, 1 ought., I wilV^ 

The next morning he read the chapter as 
usual, but there was a depth of feeling showing 
itself in his voice, and he prayed, using accus- 
tomed and familiar words. Yet how differently 
they sounded ; even the scholars noticed it. And 
when he said, “There will be a meeting for 


Beginnings, 


19 


praise and prayer in this room this evening ; I 
hope to see many of you here ; I wish I could 
meet you all here,” a thrill of surprise ran 
through the room. The surprise was not more 
at the announcement than at the earnestness of 
his invitation; and there were many who re- 
solved to attend the meeting, “ just because the 
Professor seemed so earnest about it.” The 
truth was, Mr. John Graves felt that he had 
been an idler too long, and now he was going to 
make up in zeal what he had lost by delay. 

The minister and his wife had their bit of 
talk about the sermon. He lay back on the 
lounge weary and half discouraged ; she hover- 
ing about was cheerful and hopeful. 

“Why, Ralph,” she said, “ your people were 
very attentive to-day ; really interested I thought, 
and I never heard you preach with more power.” 

“Yes, they were attentive; 1 seldom have 
anything to complain of in that direction. Peo« 
pie listen, criticise, perhaps even approve the 
truth, then go away and forget all about the 
meaning it has for them. They seem uncon- 
scious of the fact that it has any reference to 
their lives. Yes, they were attentive, but how 


20 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

many hearts were reached ? How many lives 
will be effected by the truths presented to- 
night ? That is the question.” 

“ I am not sure that it is a question for you to 
ask,” she said, smiling. “ Don’t you see,” she 
continued, “it is your business to deliver your 
message faithfully, and — reverently I say it, is 
it not the business of the Lord, your Leader, to 
see to the hearts, to prepare them, b}^ the work- 
ing of the Spirit, for the truth ? It seems to me 
that if we are Christ’s servants, doing his work, 
that we have no need to worry over the much or 
the little that we seem to accomplish.” 

“ 1 suppose you are right,” replied the hus- 
band. 

“ I think I am, for I remember you said some- 
thing like that in one of your sermons a week or 
two ago,” she answered, laughing. “ You told 
us that God would see to results, and I took 
courage and decided not to give up quite yet. 
You told us not to be discouraged by a want of 
appreciation or a lack of visible success, and 
urged us to stand fast.^^ 

The minister laughed now. 

“ And all that did you so much good that you 


Beginnings. 


21 


are throwing it back at me. Well, I do believe 
it all in my heart, but this poor human nature 
gets the upper hand sometimes, and when it does 
I am thrown off my balance. It is well that I 
have somebody to help right 

After a little silence he spoke again : 

“ Grace, 1 feel that hitherto I have not been 
using all my powers in the service of Christ ; 
hereafter I mean to do better work in the Lord’s 
vineyard.” 




CHAPTER IL 

ECHOES FROM THE PAST. 

‘ What shall we do that we might work the works of God.” 



; OU remember Ralph Ried ? He is Abbie’s 
brother, and cousin of Ester. Ah I now 
you remember 1 I thought you would if I spoke 
of Ester. Since he went to Europe you have 
lost sight of him, though you often wonder how 
his character has developed, and if he grew to be 
the sort of man he promised and you hoped. 
Well, here he is, pastor of the Court Street 
Church. You are watching now to see what 
stand he will take upon those questions that vex 
the souls of men who tremble before the threat- 


12 


Echoes from the Past, 


23 


ened displeasure and opposition of what may be 
the stronger, if not the truer side. When you 
knew him he was not a Christian, and you ask 
how it all has come about. The story of his con- 
version would make a chapter by itself. The 
little card which Ester took from the hanging 
case in a fancy store as they were shopping one 
day, and whose solemn message came with force 
to Ester’s heart, was picked up long after in a 
deserted room of the Ried mansion, and with the 
words, “ I solemnly agree as God shall help me.” 
A flash of memory brought back to Ralph the 
sorrowful scenes of those days of bereavement 
which followed so closely upon that morning’s 
shopping. Tlie card was dingy and the words 
half defaced ; but prompted by the spirit within 
that was reviving old associations, he studied 
out the sentences: — “To try to save at least 
one soul each year.” 

“ Dear me,” he thought, “ that was half a dozen 
years ago. If I had adopted these resolutions 
then — Well, what if I had, whose soul might 
I have saved ? Perhaps poor Tom Carter might 
have been saved. That would have been some- 
thing worth while, wouldn’t it, now ^ ” 


24 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


“ And yourself ? ” 

Ralph Ried never got away from the thoughts 
that were awakened by the words of the old 
worn card, until they drew him to a decision 
that changed not so much his outer life as the 
motives and purposes of his living. 

About that time he wu’ote to his sister: 

“ And now comes the question, how can I best 
serve the Lord ? Time and money, and life it- 
self, are his. How shall I best employ all for 
his honor ? . . . Next week I expect to go with 
Mr. Holmes to Chester to conduct a meeting. 
We go as a delegation from the Y. M. C. A. You 
are saying, ‘ That is new work for Ralph.’ Well, 
it is ; yet it seems as though I had been doing 
it for years, I am so happy in it. So glad, so 
sure am I that the Lord is leading me, that I 
have settled into a calm content, ready to fol- 
low whithersoever the path tendeth. Sure am 
I that though it be by a way that I know not, it 
will be the right wa3^ I do not yet feel certain 
that I ought to enter upon a course of theologi- 
cal study, but it may be that this is the way.” 

Step by step the Lord was leading him on in 
the way of preparation for the work of preaching 


Echoes from the Past, 


25 


the gospel. It was wonderful how the proud, 
self-reliant young man submitted to be led. He 
who had been accustomed to plan and execute 
both for himself and others, gave liimself up 
with a glad submission to the leadership of One 
higher than himself. And yet he grew in 
strength and power, and those who had been 
accustomed to trust him and lean upon him, 
trusted him more implicitly and leaned more 
securely upon his strong arm. 

The first years of his ministry had gone by, 
but he had lost none of his ardor. On the con- 
trary, he grew more eager — “ more and better 
work ” was his own motto, and the one he was 
trying to get others to adopt. 

Going home from church one evening, Mrs. 
Coville said, in a fretful tone : 

“ I’m sick of hearing Mr. Ried talk about 
‘ working Christians.’ I guess if he had as many 
to cook and wash and mend for as I have he 
would be glad to fall back on the text that says 
we are saved by faith. I am sure I haven’t any 
time for Christian work, as he says. I’d look 
pretty leaving my family while I went about 
vith tracts.” 


26 


Echoing and Ee-echoing, 


“ But, Mrs. Coville,” said her neighbor, who 
was walking with her, “you know there has al- 
ways been a holding back upon the part of the 
people here. There are some, like yourself, who 
have very little time for work outside their own 
homes, but there are others — ” 

“ Yes, I know,” interrupted Mrs. Coville. 
“ There’s the Elmer girls — there’s no reason 
under the sun why they shouldn’t take hold ; 
but they won’t, and Mr. Ried may preach about 
it until he is gray, and he’ll never get Rachel 
Elmer waked up.” 

“ He won’t if she doesn’t go to church to hear 
the preaching,” laughed Mrs. Bates. 

“It’s a pity she shouldn’t. She might take 
hold of things. She just keeps at that everlast- 
ing embroidery. I know what I’ll do. I’ll have 
her out next Sunday, see if I don’t,” said Mrs. 
Coville, emphatically. 

Mrs. Bates smiled. It would not do to tell Mrs. 
Coville that she was about to join the working 
forces of the church in spite of her protests, and 
if any one could coax Rachel Elmer out of her 
shell it would seem to cover half a dozen ordi- 
nary efforts. The “ Elmer girls ” lived alone in 


Echoes from the Past 27 

\ 

a queer old house, of the sort that attract atten- 
tion in these days when to be popular is to be 
an hundred years old. There were only these 
two left. All the rest had looked their last upon 
the quaint old house, and for years the two sis- 
ters had lived on together quietly, but not hap- 

piiy* 

“ I hate it, I do. This horrid stillness and 
sameness will kill me,” Lydia would exclaim as 
the}" sat together in the long afternoons. 

“ Oh no ; not so bad as that^ I hope,” Miss 
Rachel would reply, looking up from her em- 
broidery and smiling placidly. 

“ I honestly believe it will,” Lydia would say, 
“ or else I shall lose my senses. I cannot endure 
it.” 

“ I don’t see what you mean at all,” returned 
the elder sister. “ I am sure it is very pleasant 
here. We have everything we need. If you 
want new furniture you might get it I suppose. 
I am satisfied with the old, but the parlors might 
be refurnished,” and Miss Rachel sighed at the 
thought of giving up the quaint old chairs and 
heavy mahogany sideboards. 


28 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

‘‘ Oh, Rachel ! It isn’t that at all. I like the 
old things, but — ” 

“ What then ? lam sure it is very comfort- 
able and quiet — ” 

“ Quiet I I should think it was ! It is just 
the quiet that distracts me. I’d rather live in a 
cotton factory or an orphan-asylum than endure 
this horrible stillness another day.” 

“ Oh, Lydia, don’t talk so wildly. If you would 
only try to interest yourself in something. See, 
this is almost done,” holding up her work. 
“ Isn’t it beautiful ? It is four months since I 
began it, but there is a great amount of work 
on it.” 

“ I should think so ! And what is it good 
for ? ” returned the other sister, contemptuously. 
“ I can tell you, Rachel, that I have more than 
once been tempted to seize that rag and throw 
it into the fire. Parlor furniture I What do 
we want of a parlor, anyway ? We never have 
any company. Even the minister shuns us, and 
no wonder. Such unsocial bodies as we are 1 
I know one thing I will do. I’ll get a croquet 
Bet the next time I’ll go to town.” 


Echoes from the Past. 29 

“ A croquet set I Why, Lydia Elmer, are you 
crazy ? ” 

“ Maybe. I told you I should be,” said Lydia, 
laughing now. “ You wanted me to be interest- 
ed in something. I leaned over the fence at 
Mr. Coville's last night and watched the game, 
and I think it is really a nice thing ; and I am 
going to get a set.” 

“What an absurd thing! Do you know, 
Lydia Elmer, how old you are ? ” 

“ Yes, ma’am,” replied Lydia, demurely. 
“ Twenty-six next 10th day of October.” 

“ And to talk of buying a game, as if you were 
a child to be amused ! ” 

The conversation ended, as usual, by Lydia’s 
busying herself in a book, while Rachel put the 
last stitches in the ivy pattern she was working 
as a border for her screen. Presently there was 
a light tap at the side door, and Mrs. Coville, 
their nearest neighbor, entered. 

“ No ; I won’t let you put away my things. 
I’ll just drop my sun-bonnet down here. I ran 
over to invite you to go with me to Mr. Patter- 
son’s, ‘to the sewing society. Husband says I 
can have old Billy to drive if I can get any one to 


80 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


go with me, and I thought of you right away. 
Mrs. Patterson is such a nice woman ; I know 
you would enjoy going there, both of you.” 

Mrs. Coville had changed her plan of attack 
and decided upon the sewing society as a pre- 
liminary skirmish. Miss Rachel looked her sur- 
prise. 

“ Thank you,” she said, “ but I don’t think 
we can go.” 

“ Speak for yourself, Rachel,” interposed Ly- 
dia. “ I mean to accept Mrs. Coville’s invitation. 
Por my part. I’ve just got to get out of this dull 
place if only for one afternoon.” 

“ I am sure that you will enjoy the ride, if you 
will only consent to go,” said Mrs. Coville, ad- 
dressing the elder sister. “ I don’t go very often 
myself, but I have taken a notion to go this 
time and have you go with me.” 

I think Miss Rachel Elmer was surprised out 
of herself, and if, when she returned to her 
senses, she was sorry for having given her prom- 
ise to go to the sewing society, she was too tena- 
cious of her word to withdraw. And Mrs. Co- 
ville departed, wondering at her easy victory. 

“ Now if they’ll only put her in as directress 


Echoes from the Past, 


31 


or sometlimg,” she said, as she hurried home» 
fearing that her biscuits were burning, “ I’ll have 
her out to prayer-meeting yet.” 

And yet Mrs. Coville was sick and tired of 
Mr. Ried’s talk about Christian work I 
« 



iikV- 



CHAPTER III. 

A SUCCESSFUL EXPERIMENT. 

“ye shall be witnesses unto me.” 

f ROFESSOR Graves shut and bolted the 
door, and then he sat down to think. 
Just what he was to do was a puzzle to him. 
Of course he must make some sort of prepara- 
tion for performing his part as the leader of 
the meeting he had appointed. He was not 
used to anything of that sort. To be sure, he 
was quite regular at the weekly prayer-meeting, 
and was generally ready to follow the leader 
with “some remarks” when the meeting was 
announced as “open,” or to lead in prayer 
.^2 


A Successful Experiment, 33 

whenever called upon ; but he very reasonably 
concluded that he had undertaken something 
very different from this. A boys’ and girls’ 
meeting to be a success needs a skillful con- 
ductor, he thought ; and as the hour drew near 
he more and more doubted his ability. He even 
contemplated asking Mr. Ried to come in and 
take charge of the meeting; then he remem- 
bered that his work could not be done by his 
pastor. One would not have supposed it possi- 
ble that the dignified and self-contained professor 
could have been so perturbed. 

“ I suppose they’ll all be dumb as posts,” he 
said to himself ; “ that is, if any of them come. 
I ought to have appointed the meeting in the 
small room. Half a dozen or so will feel forlorn 
in that great chapel. I expect it will be like the 
meeting Uncle Jotham led once. The minister 
was absent, and there was only Uncle Jotham 
and six or eight women. In that place it was 
not allowed women to speak or pray in public. 
So Uncle Jotham gave out a hymn, thanking 
God that the sisters might sing ; then he prayed, 
hoping that some brethren would come in soon ; 
then they sang ; afterward he read a chapter, 


34 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


and made some remarks ; still no brother came 
to his aid ; they sang again ; still no help. Final- 
ly, Uncle Jotham, grown desperate, said, ‘We’ll 
close with the Doxology,’ and they closed. ‘ That 
was a meeting for “ prayer and conference ” ’ 
said Uncle Jo in telling of it. “I suppose,” con- 
tinued the professor, talking to the stove-pipe, 
“that there is a way to draw out the young 
people ; but how to do it, that is the question.” 

The professor was growing very anxious for 
the success of his experiment, not because it wa8 
of his originating, but because he had suddenly 
grown anxious for the spiritual good of his pupils 
and the progress of Christ’s kingdom. It was 
wonderful how important things seemed to him 
now, which two days ago he scarcely thought of. 
He tried to select a passage of Scripture to 
read, tried to frame a suitable opening, but his 
thoughts got into a whirl, and he wondered if 
he could be growing nervous. At last, with an 
earnest prayer for help, he went down to the 
school-house. Meeting one of the boys at the 
gate, he said : 

“ Harry, I think we will do better to have our 
meeting in the little room.” 


A Successful Experiment. 35 

“ Think so, sir ? ” said Harry. 

“ Why, yes ; we shall feel more sociabJe than 
with a few of us in that great room. Don’t you 
think so ? ” 

“ Maybe ; but if there should be a good 
many ? ” 

“ Oh, well, it isn’t likely there’ll be many. I’ll 
go and start a fire in the little room.” 

The fire didn’t burn very well ; the professor 
had to go to the wood-room and get more kin- 
dling. Then the lamps were out of order and 
had to be trimmed , and while busy at this uncon- 
genial work Mr. Graves heard the constant tread 
of feet through the hall and up and down stairs ? ” 

“ I think, sir,” returned Harry, “that you will 
find that it is all going upJ^ 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“ Wh}^, only that I haven’t heard any one 
come down ; but a good many have gone up,” 
said Harry. 

“Let’s go and see,” said Professor Graves. 

One moment he paused in the doorway of the 
chapel ; then crossing to the desk, he bent his 
head in silent thanksgiving. He scarcely hoped 


46 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

»o meet a dozen, and here were forty of hia 
pupils ! 

An hour earlier Helen Betson was in her 
room ; the door was not bolted or even closed, 
but stood wide open, and voices came up from 
the dining-room below. Her father was saying ; 

“ Where does Helen want to go to-night ? ” 

“ To prayer-meeting at the school-chapel,” re- 
plied Mrs. Betson. 

“ That is a new thing, isn’t it ? ” asked the gen- 
tleman. 

“Which — the prayer-meeting, or Helen’s 
wanting to go to one ? ” 

It was her brother Tom’s voice now, and 
Helen shivered. Was Tom going to make the 
thing ridiculous, and so keep her from going ? 
Because, if Tom laughed, that would spoil it foi 
Helen. That was the way so many things were 
spoiled. She waited for her father’s reply. 

“Well, both,” he answered, laughing a little. 
“ I never heard of a prayer-meeting at the school- 
chapel, and Helen hasn’t been in the habit of 
going to such places of late, eh ? ” 

Helen s cheeks flushed. She recalled a win- 
ter, three years ago, when for a time she had 


A Successful Experiment, 37 

grown to be interested in prayer-meetings, and 
when, as she thought, she had given her heart to 
Christ. It was her cousin Dick who led her to 
this point, and who was always her escort so 
long as he remained in the family. Then he 
went home, and there was no one to go with 
her, and now it was a long, long time since 
she had been to a prayer-meeting. She had not 
been walking in the light, yet she clung to her 
hope through Christ. Now and then a fling from 
Tom’s sarcastic tongue would cause her color to 
rise. Tom said, in the height of her interest, 
that it would not last, and afterward he delighted 
to say, “ I told you so.” At tea-time Helen had 
asked her mother’s permission to go out that 
evening, and, in reply to her question, had ex- 
plained about the meeting, also stating that 
Flora Niles was going also, and that her 
brother would call for them and bring them 
home. Her mother’s consent gained, she went 
up to her room to get ready. Presently Tom 
left the dining-room whistling. She heard him 
cross the hall to the hat-rack, but the opening of 
the outer door she did not hear, though she was 


88 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


listeniDg. Some way she felt that she should 
breathe easier after he was gone. 

“ Helen,” he called from below. 

“Well, Tom, what is it?” Her voice was 
steady, but her heart was throbbing with excite- 
ment. 

“ Say, wouldn’t your own brother do as well 
as Flora Niles’ brother ? ” 

“ Why, yes, a great deal better, only — ” 

“ Only you thought I wouldn’t go. But I 
have a mind to go to that meeting myself.” 

Helen came out of her room and leaned over 
the railing. 

“ That will be splendid,” she said ; “ and sa}^ 
Tom, don’t you suppose you could coax Willard 
to go, because Clara says her father will not al- 
low her to go out without Willard, and she wants 
to go so badly ? ” 

Tom laughed. 

“ I’d look prett}" going about trying to get 
folks out to prayer-meeting I Well, I’ll see.” 

Helen was pretty sure that he would not only 
see, but do 

As Professor Graves looked over the little 
gathering he thought of all his pupils. Tom 


A Successful Experiment, 39 

Betsoii and Willard Hunting were the last ones 
he expected to see. But there they were, and 
many others whose presence astonished him. 

True, many of them came just to please the 
Professor, or to see what it was all about, or be- 
cause somebody else came ; and Professor Graves 
understood this, and longed for power to interest 
and hold them, and felt that no time should be 
lost. 

“ Some of us,” he said, “ love the Saviour. 
Let us speak freely and tell these others who 
do not know this love what a blessed thing it is 

to belong to Christ And now I 

want to express my regret for the past; my 
Christian friends, may I not say our regret ? If 
some of these who do not know this blessedness 
should be led to receive Christ, the first thing 
they will ask will be. Why didn’t you tell us 
before ? Why did you let us go on so long in 
that dangerous path ? For my own part I have 
no answer but this : I have been so absorbed in 
endeavoring to advance you intellectually that I 
have let the spiritual slip too much out of mind. 
God grant that my awakening to a sense of my 
neglect may not be too late.” 


40 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


It was a solemn meeting, very different from 
what any of them had anticipated. Even Helen 
Betson found voice to sa}^ : 

“ I love the Saviour. I am sure I do. I wish 
you would all come to him.” 

Her friend Flora said : 

“ I have been looking about since yesterday 
for some work to do for Christ. Perhaps he 
will give me something to do through this meet- 
ing. I think it would be pleasant to work for 
the Saviour.” 

The Professor said : 

“ I think if our pastor could know how many 
hearts were reached by that sermon of yesterday 
morning he would feel that his work was not in 
vain.” 

Going home Tom said : 

“ I say, Helen, wasn’t it awful hard work to 
say that to-night ? ” 

“ Why, no ; that is, it wouldn’t have been if 
you had been away,” she said, between laughing 
and crying. 

“ Whew I I guess I’ll look out how I offer to 
be your escort next time,” returned Tom, pleas- 
antly. 


A Successful Experiment, 41 

“ Oh, I don’t mean that — I — Tom, you know 
you make such sarcastic speeches sometimes, but 
I shall not be afraid of you any more. It seems 
as if I had lived ten 3^ears since tea-time.” 

“ I don’t see any wrinkles,” said Tom, looking 
into her face. 

“It is fret and worry that make wrinkles, I’ve 
heard mother say, and that isn’t the kind of living 
I mean,” said Helen ; then, speaking earnestly, 
“ Tom, I wish you would step over to the other 
side. I want you. It is so hard to be alone,” 
and Helen’s voice failed. 

“ Why, little sister, I believe you’ve really got 
the missionary spirit upon you. I can’t quite 
see the way clear to what you ask, but you need 
never be afraid of me. I will own to you that 
I honor your religion more to-night than ever 
before, and Professor Graves has risen in the 
esteem of us boys by what he said to-night. I 
have often made fun of your notion, but I will 
say that the love that can stand three years in 
the atmosphere of our home must be genuine, if 
there’s enough left to speak of as you did to-night.” 

Was Helen sorry that she had witnessed for 
Christ ? 



CHAPTER IV. 



MISS ELMER’S SACRIFICE. 

‘HEREIN IS MY FATHER GLORIFIED.’* 

R. Ried’s sermon from the text, “Go 
work to-day in my vineyard,” had 
echoed and re-echoed throughout the congrega- 
tion, and many, as we have noted, had been 
stirred to life and activity. But activity needs 
to be directed, and to give this directness was 
the aim of the pastor from week to week ; and 
those who had been incited to greater earnest- 
ness came now regularly to the Thursday even- 
ing meeting to gather up hints as to their ways 
of working, and real practical talks they heard. 


Miss Elmer's Sacrifice, 


43 


Robert Niles, whose eloquent orations had been 
something remarkable in college times, and who 
was now a young man with fine literary tastes, 
listened eagerly to the simple, straightforward 
talks, that had in them no effort at oratorical 
effect or literary finish ; yet it may be that they 
were eloquent and finished, for Ralph Ried could 
not easily be anything else. 

They were all there — young Niles, Helen 
Betson and Professor Graves, as well as Mrs. 
Coville, who had succeeded in her plan of getting 
Rachel Elmer out to prayer-meeting. The 
means she employed to bring about this result 
were best known to herself. It was a strange 
thing, for when had Rachel ever been seen at 
prayer-meeting ? Indeed, she was very seldom 
at church upon the Sabbath. She was a mem- 
ber of the church, and had been since her early 
girlhood. For years after she had grown to 
womanhood the care of an invalid mother had 
shut her off from general society, and to a great 
extent from church privileges; then her own 
ill-health kept her much at home until the habit 
became fixed, and she lived a lonely, unsocial 
life. Her sister Lydia was at once her pet and 


44 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


her plague. Not that she petted her ; on the con- 
trary, she fretted and scolded the younger sister, 
to whom their quiet life was a torment. But, 
notwithstanding the recluse life she led, here 
she was sitting quietly beside Mrs. Coville, lis- 
tening to words which she was certain were 
meant for her ; not that she fancied the pastor 
knew anything about her particular shortcom- 
ings, or bad any thought of her anyway, but she 
herself knew that she was the unfruitful branch ; 
and when the speaker in Bible language told of 
the cutting off and casting away, she began to 
look upon her own life to see if she could find 
any fruit whatsoever, saying to herself that how- 
ever small and unlovely the fruit, if any might 
be found, it would prove her union with Christ. 
It might be sour and crabbed fruit ; but if so, 
there was hope in the words, “ And every branch 
that beareth fruit he purgeth it, that it may 
bring forth more fruit.” Speaking of this purg- 
ing : “ It is,” said the pastor, “ the lopping off of 
hindrances, as the master of the vineyard pinches 
off the overgrowth of leaf and shoot that fruit- 
buds may develope and mature ; so the Hus- 
bandman comes into our lives with his pruning- 


Misa Elmpys Sacrifice, 


45 


shears., and clips here and there of the over- 
growth of that which to us seems to make life 
more fair and symmetrical. Now it is a cher- 
ished plan, a darling ambition, a joy, a hope, each 
of Avhich to us appears legitimate and laudable, 
but which may be taking too much of the vital 
force of our lives, thus hindering the develop- 
ment of bud, flower and fruit.” 

Here Rachel lost a few sentences ; she was 
thinking how her life had been narrowed down. 
Surely the Husbandman had not forgotten to 
prune closely. Again and again had she felt the 
sharpness of this cutting off of joys, and still she 
was not conscious of an increase of fruit. But 
Mr. Ried was saying ; 

“ Are we ready to enter upon this work, to take 
up the pruniug-knife and lop off these habits of 
living that dwarf the fruit? Are we ready to 
put a limit to the growth of our affections, to our 
ambitions, to all our plans of life ? To lop off 
our pride, and self-indulgences, all self-will, 
hatred and anger ? How many of us, I ask, are 
willing to have our lives so clipped, and cut 
back, and contracted, that there shall be nothing 
in the way of a steady, grand and beautiful 


46 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


Christian development ? Habits of living, accus- 
tomed ways, are the hardest to overcome. In 
spite of the pruning strong shoots are continually 
starting out, and the love of ease taking posses- 
sion, the branch is likely to be fruitless. Let us 
see to it that of us it may be said, ‘ Herein is my 
Father glorified that ye bear much fruit; so 
shall ye be my disciples.’ May we all have this 
mark of discipleship. Have you? Have I?” 

“Have I?” 

Miss Elmer walked home quietly enough. 
Some people always preserve an outward calm 
while the inside is anything but tranquil. Her 
neighbors, Mrs. Coville and Mrs. Bates, carried 
on a conversation full of kindly interest in each 
other’s families. 

“ Freddy didn’t go to school to-day, Johnny 
said,” was a remark of Mrs. Bates which caught 
Miss Elmer's ear. 

“ No,” returned her friend, “ the walk is too 
long. I am sorry to have to keep him at home. 
It was quite time he was put steadily at books. 
I do wish we could have a school for small chil- 
dren near us.” 

“ We do need one,” said Mrs. Bates. 


Miss Elmer's Sacrifice, 


47 


“ 1 don’t suppose there is any hope of such a 
thing. There are not scholars enough to make 
it pay ; but there are half a dozen about Fred- 
dy’s age who really ought to be at school. Miss 
Rachel, suppose you were to open a school for 
little children ? ” Mrs. Coville said this play- 
fully, very much as she would say, “ Pretty 
moon, silver moon, come down to me,” with 
about as much thought as to results. Then she 
continued: “I often feel that my childrens’ 
mental interests are being sacrificed to their 
physical.” 

“ And the rest of us feel the same thing,” said 
Mrs. Bates. “ Some one of us ought to turn 
teacher.” 

“Mrs. Patterson tells me that her Emma is 
going to Boston to study the Kindergarten 
methods, but that will come too late for our lit- 
tle ones.” 

“ Yes ” — Mrs. Coville spoke sadly — “I sup- 
pose it is all for the best ; but Freddy felt sc 
badly to-day that I cried with him. Good-night, 
Rachel. I hope you enjoyed the meeting.” 

Late that night Miss Elmer turned wearily 


48 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

upon her pillow, and so restless was she that 
Lj^dia exclaimed, petulantly ; 

“ I declare, Rachel ! Pjayer-meetings don’t 
seem to have a tranquillizing effect upon your 
nervous system ! You’ll wear yourself out turn- 
ing over so often. You ought to have a patent 
spring so you'd go over easy.” 

But Miss Elmer, had she chosen to reply, 
would have said that the prayer-meeting had 
nothing to do with it — that her uneasiness grew 
out of the talk to which she had listened on the 
way home. She had not yet coine to see that 
the train of thought started at the meeting was 
working up into practical shape helped on bj’’ hei 
neighbor’s expression of need. 

“ It is all true,” she considered while Lydia 
slept, “ and more too. These children around 
here need to have something done for them 
quickly. Some of them are on the road to idle. 
Ignorant manhood, but I could not do that of all 
things. I have no taste for it.” 

“ But Christ pleased not himself.” 

Queer how her thoughts answered themselves. 

“ But it would be a real trouble. Children do 
litter up a house so. They would have to come 


Miss Elmer*B Sacrifice* 


49 


in at the front door, and 1 hate a littered entry.® 

“ Christ pleased not himself.” 

“ There’s little Molly Severn, I’d have to take 
her, and she is such a disagreeable child. I 
could not endure to teach her. But why do I 
think about it ? Of course, I won’t do anything 
of that sort. It would be very unpleasant.” 

“ Christ pleased not himself.” 

‘‘ But how absurd it would be. One of the 
Elmers ! Such an old family as ours. I ought 
to consider the family name. School-teaching 
would be a new thing for the Elmers. Dear me, 
I don’t believe I am myself to-night. If it were 
not the most absurd thing in the world I would 
try it, but I can not, so there’s no use in think- 
ing about it.” 

Miss Elmer did not find it easy to change the 
current of her thoughts, and she could not get 
rid of the one invariable answer to all her objec- 
tions. 

Christ pleased not himself.” 

The next morning, at the breakfast table, she 
said: 

“ Lydia, I am thinking that we might as well 
start a little school.” 


{>0 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

Lydia dropped her fork suddenly, and said in 
a tone of alarm : 

“ Why, Rachel I What do you mean ? Has 
anything happened ? ” 

“ A great many things happen every day, I 
suppose,” said Miss Elmer, composedly. 

“To us, I mean — to our money?” almost 
gasped Lydia. 

“ Oh, no, not that I have heard. I had not 
thought of teaching for pay, though I suppose 
that would be best, but I’ll tell you about it,” 
and she proceeded to rehearse the talk of her 
two neighbors. 

It was not hard to gain Lydia’s approval of 
her scheme. Then followed two busy days, and 
Miss Rachel was ready for her experiment. She 
had lopped off pride and selfish ease, and the 
fruit of self-denial was already developing. As 
the half-dozen rollicking little creatures came 
trooping into the house Lydia said : 

“Well, I did say the other day that I would 
rather live in an orphan-asylum, but I did not 
think that I should be taken at my word.” 

There were plenty of people to wonder, and 


Miss Elmer" 9 Sacrifice, 51 

some to make ill-natured criticisms, but there 
were some to rejoice, among them Mrs. Coville. 

“ How did you happen to think of such a 
blessed thing?” she said one rainy afternoon, 
coming over to bring an umbrella for Freddy. 

Miss Elmer smiled as she pinned one boy up 
in an old shawl, and wrapped a water-proof cape 
around another, and tied a handkerchief about 
the throat of a third. 

“ Well,” she said, “it was the first thing that 
came to me after that Thursday evening talk 
about bearing fruit, and I had no time to waste 
in looking for something more congenial — I 
mean that I fancied would be more congenial.” 

“ Well,” said Mrs. Coville, “since Freddy be- 
came lame I have murmured a great deal, be- 
cause of the distance from school. I did not 
know what the Lord had waiting for my boy. I 
have such a restful feeling about him now, and 
to think I might have saved all that worry.” 

“ And so it all came of her going to prayer- 
meeting with me ! How the Lord pays us back, 
even our smallest efforts I ” thought Mrs. Co- 
ville, as she picked her way home through the 
rain. 


52 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


And Miss Elmer, standing in the door, after 
the last boy had gone, repeated, softly : 

“ Herein is my Father glorified that ye bear 
much fruit ; so shall ye be my disciples.” 




CHAPTER V. 


FULFILLING THE LAW. 


** BEAB YE ONE ANOTHEE’S BUKDENS.*’ 



^^RS. Coville was widowed ! Not a week 
since the darkness fell so suddenly upon 
her, and the bitterness of her lot she had scarcely 
realized as yet, though she saw in prospect the 
heaviness of the burden she must bear, and was 
ready to sink under it. If things had only been 
different she thought she could have borne her 
loss better ; if her children had been older ; if 
their circumstances had been less straightened, 
or if the little they possessed had been different- 
ly invested ; but as things were, such a load of 


64 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

responsibility rested upon her that she seemed to 
have neither time nor strength for the luxury of 
grief. She did not know that afterward she 
would tliank God for these imperative demands 
upon her energies both of body and mind, realiz- 
ing how gracious a Providence had thus kept 
her from utter despair. She had not yet had 
time to rally from the first shock, and she felt 
dumb and paralyzed. She did not rebel ; her 
faith kept her from that ; but her heart was sore 
and sad ; and too weak and sick to walk to 
church, she sat out the Sabbath hours with her 
little ones clinging about her — her fatherless 
little ones! God help her and them. Thank 
God for such there is a precious promise. 

That evening Mrs. Bates looked over the way 
at her neighbor’s dark windows, and she sighed 
as she turned awa3^ 

“ Dear me, Mrs. Coville is sitting over there 
in the dark. Yes, to be sure, it is dark to her 
all the same if she has a light. Poor woman ! 
That was good talk this morning about bearing 
one another’s burdens. I never thought how 
much that took in. If people only would, how 
much more happiness there might be in the 


Fulfilling the Law, 


55 


world. It is so much easier getting along with 
some one to give a lift. But it won’t do a bit of 
good. There’s John, now, he won’t think of 
anybody to help ; and as for me, I have all I can 
do to carry my own burdens. How very tired 
I am to-night. Seems to me I get tired very 
easily. John, how did you like the sermon this 
morning ? ” 

“ First-rate,” replied the husband. “ None of 
your high-flown preaching for me. One good, 
practical discourse like that this morning will do 
more good than a whole month of sermons like 
Dr. La Salle’s.” 

“ I don’t know about the good,” returned his 
wife. 

“ What do you mean ? Didn’t gou like it this 
morning ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ; but as to the practical benefit of 
sermons I am not sure that they amount to much. 
W e listen, and express ourselves edified ; but 
whether we are really built up in good works is 
doubtful. I don’t think there is much working 
out sermons.” 

“I don’t know — perhaps not. But 1 suppose 


56 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


we can not judge — only so far as we are imme- 
diately concerned,” said Mr. Bates. 

“ And that’s just it. I know I never carry 
out any of his ideas,” and Mrs. Bates looked very 
sober, though her husband smiled pleasantly 
upon the little woman who had suddenly taken 
her shawl from the closet and brought her over- 
shoes to the fire. 

“ Where are you going?” he asked. 

“ I thought I would step over and speak a 
word to Mrs. Coville, and if she can be persuaded 
to go to church I will stay with the children 
this evening. You may call as you go along.” 

Again Mr. Bates smiled, as he thought how 
his wife’s tender, loving sympathy would help 
Mrs. Coville to lift her burden. 

It was not in words the light and warmth 
that Mrs. Bates brought into that dark and 
cheerless home. Stepping softly, she lighted and 
shaded the lamp, stirred the wood fire into a 
flame ; and learning from Freddy, who followed 
her in his limping gait, as she went to the kitchen 
for wood, that they had not had supper, she set 
her tin pot on the stove, and before Mrs. Coville 


Fulfilling the Law. 57 

had time to remonstrate, she had a simple tea- 
table spread. 

“ Now, my dears,” she said, “ bring your 
mother’s chair ; ” and to the mother, “ I knew 
you wouldn’t feel like doing much, so I brought 
3ver a pot of cocoa and this cold chicken ; aud 
jow I’ll just get out your things if you’ll let me, 
for Mr. Bates is going to call for you to take you 
to church this evening.” 

Of course Mrs. Coville objected, but her friend 
said: 

“ It will be better for you. Lina, here, needs 
to go.” Speaking very tenderly : “you must re- 
member 3 ^our children ; and the sooner you take 
up your new life the better for them.” 

The oldest boy was twelve years old, and 
while his mother and Lina were gone to church, 
and after Freddy and little Clara were asleep, 
Mrs. Bates and Henry had a long, earnest talk ; 
and Mrs. Coville never knew how much of the 
strong, brave endeavor, and the tender care-taking 
which her boy came to manifest, grew out of the 
suggestions and encouragements of that same 
little Mrs. Bates. And as Heniy grew older, 
and more and more lifted burdens from his 


68 Echoing and Re-Echoing. 

mother’s shoulders, and her friends congratulated 
her now and then upon having so good a son, 
neither of them realized how a word in sorrow 
had been a fulfilling of the law, “ Bear je one 
another’s burdens.” 

But while Mr. Bates looked approvingly upon 
his wife’s little acts of kindness, and saw in them 
a practical application of the morning’s sermon, 
what had he to do with it? Had it no meaning 
for him ? 

Very soon Mrs. Coville found herself in a 
somewhat embarrassing position. Forms of the 
law must be gone through with. Matters of ad- 
ministration and guardianship must be attended 
to ; and then came the question who would be 
the friend in need to stand as her surety in these 
things. Mr. Cramer, who had been loud in ex- 
pressions of sympathy ? Not he. He did not 
believe in a woman’s undertaking any business 
of this sort, anyway. She would better let some 
man take the whole thing in charge, and pay 
over to her such sums as should be left after it 
was all settled. 

“ But the percentage is an item which I can 
not afford to lose,” said Mrs. Coville. “ I can do 


Fulfilling the Law, 69 

the business myself, and save more for my chil- 
dren.” 

“ But you ought not to undertake it. It is 
not a woman’s place,” insisted Mr. Cramer. 

This rebuff so dismayed the sad-hearted woman 
that she had no courage to seek further for help. 
But Rachel Elmer herself found out several of 
their own church-members, and presented the 
case. 

“ You know,” she said to Mr. Hunting, “ that 
Mrs. Coville is a great manager ; she has uncom- 
mon ability and great business capacity. I’d 
sooner trust her than half the men who pretend 
to be great financiers. If it were a man of ordi- 
nary business talents who asked this of you, you 
would not refuse.” 

Mr. Hunting was well aware that Miss Elmer 
knew that he had often lent his name to business 
men, so he could not pleau that it was not his 
custom ; he could only smile blandly and ask to 
be excused. 

“ Certainly, as you choose ; but if you can not 
do this much for a sister in Christ, what are cove- 
nant vows worth ? You are a rich man ; the lit- 
tle that Mrs. Coville possesses would be as 


60 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

nothing to you, even if there were any risk. But 
good-morning.” 

Miss Rachel was not discouraged. The next 
man she met was Mr. Betson ; he, a man of the 
world, was ready to put to shame this Christian 
man, and the way out of Mrs. Coville’s troubles 
was shortened. Meantime Mr. Bates had been 
thinking. Mrs. Coville’s burdens were heavy. 
Could he help her? He had done much. Was 
more required of him ? He knew of her present 
strait; should Ae step forward with an offer of 
help ? What of the application of the Golden 
Rule to this case ? What if it were his wife and 
his children? And, too, he knew that his wife, 
dear, loving, sympathizing little creature that 
she was, had not one-half the business capacity 
that Mrs. Coville possessed. In his heart he 
knew that the risk was almost nominal ; but he 
had never done sue’ a thing, and had made it a 
settled principle never to do it, and had prom- 
ised his wife. But, then, this was a peculiar 
case. Perhaps he had better talk it over with 
Charlotte. She had spoken particularly of that 
sermon — what if, after all, it should bring forth 
fruit in this way ? Suppose it was his own sister ? 


Fulfilling the ijaw. 


61 


But that was different. Was it? Are we not 
all one family in Christ Jesus ? Are we not 
bound to do and care for each other in times of 
need ? Have not these a right to expect, and 
seek not only our sympathy but our aid ? What 
would Christ have done? Was this his oppor- 
tunity to fulfill the law of love ? Why should 
he do this thing ? There were richer men than he 
in the neighborhood — men more accustomed to 
taking such responsibilities. Very well, will 
you let another take the reward ? “ Bear ye one 

another’s burdens.” It was strange that this 
opportunity of burden-bearing should have come 
so closel}^ upon the holding up of that command. 
Was it? or was it that the mind, having been 
quickened upon the subject, the case seemed to 
have unusual prominence? Were not such op- 
portunities, or, rather, similar ones, presenting 
themselves every day ? Does not the Father, in 
giving us the place of children in his family, give 
us with it, almost daily, privileges of exercising 
a self-sacrificing love, of doing a self-forgetting 
work for him? Mr. Bates revolved these and 
other thoughts in his mind, and finally he said : 

“ Charlotte, if I do this in the name of the 


62 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

Lord Jesus, then shall the blessing of God bo 
upon it.” 

Thus helped by one and another, Mrs. Coville 
took up her burden of living once more. It was 
curious how many found opportunities for this 
burden-bearing for the sake of Jesus Christ. 
Through that long winter in her first struggle 
alone with the world Mrs. Coville felt the way 
smoother by the many little kindnesses of her 
brothers and sisters. 

And how Robert Niles and Helen Betson 
found their opportunities we must leave for an- 
other chapter. 



CHAPTER VI. 


HELEN S OPPORTUNITIES. 


AND SO FULFILL THE LAW OP CHBIST, 



HE cold snap that had shriveled people 
and plants alike, and set everybody 
to grumbling, was over; the earl}^ morn had 
melted away ; overcoats and water-proofs were 
hung back in the closets, and smiles and cheer- 
ful tones had taken the place of frowns and dis- 
content, and dear, delightful Indian summer had 
come to bless the earth. Sweet old age of the 
year ! So near the last, and how bright and 
tranquil I Dull, dreary November holds in 
keeping for us those few bright days — bright 

63 


64 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


though not clear ; a haze hangs over the hills and 
fills the valleys, softening the picture of leafless 
trees and brown bare fields. 

The wise grown-up people are finishing all 
their odd out-of-door jobs, while the younger 
ones aj’e drinking in as much as possible of the 
brightness and beauty of the season. The chil- 
dren tumbled in the drifts of fallen leaves, pelt- 
ing each other with scarlet berries or brown 
nuts. Almost every one was out of doors enjoy- 
ing the sunshine. It seemed wrong to lose a bit 
of it. But Helen Betson was very busy ; she 
did not leave her desk at morning recess, though 
her seat-mate and friend. Flora Niles, said : 

“ Do, Helen, do come out. It is such a bright 
day it will do 3^00 good.” 

“ I can’t ; at least I would rather not. Christ- 
mas will be here before I am ready for it ; so 1 
must improve the minutes ; ” and the shining 
crochet-hook slipped in and out through the 
meshes of scarlet wool. 

“Well, if you won’t come, you won't,” and 
Flora ran away. 

The school-room was almost deserted. Only 
Helen and Jenny Vosburgh were left. Jenny 


Helenas Opportunities, 


65 


was bending over her slate with wrinkles of 
perplexity in her forehead ; she was not quick at 
figures, and these algebra lessons were her daily 
trial. Helen, watching, saw her write her equa- 
tion, transpose, multiply, divide and reduce 
again and again, erasing and going over the 
work repeatedly. It was almost time for the 
bell, when suddenly Jenny pushed away her 
slate and dropped her head upon her arms with 
a despairing exclamation. Someway Helen felt 
that it was that thirteenth example which was 
troubling Jenny; she remembered how it both- 
ered her^ and how a hint or two from Tom had 
set her right. Should she go and help Jenny? 
It would not be any violation of rules to give to 
Jenny the same kind of help that Tom had given 
her. But her work I She had denied herself 
the pleasure of going out for the sake of her 
mat. She really had not time ; she did not 
often get her own lessons ahead so as to gain a 
little time for fancy work. Jenny would get 
along someway. It wouldn’t be such a dreadful 
thing if she did fail; it wouldn’t be the first 
time. Her tear-stained face had too often told 
the story of imperfect recitations, and Professoi 


66 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


Graves’ consequent displeasure, for nothing so 
tried the Professor’s patience as a failure in a 
mathematical recitation. 

“ But Jenny Vosburgh is not my friend par- 
ticularly. I don’t know why I should help her,” 
Helen argued with herself. “ I can’t help all 
the girls that have trouble with their lessons.” 
“ And because you can not relieve all the sor- 
row in the world you refuse to help any,” said 
the better self that was trying to get uppermost. 
“ But I can’t spend time. If I do it to-day I’ll 
have to do the same thing to-morrow, and so on 
and on. What a bother I ” 

Helen sat by a window that faced the street, 
and looking out she saw Mr. Ried going up the 
walk. He stopped to chat with Flora and the 
other girls, and Helen wished that she had gone 
out — a word from the pastor was worth a great 
deal to the young people. 

“ I like Mr. Ried,” she said to herself. “ What 
a good sermon that was he gave us yesterday 
morning. I wonder — ” Here the sound of 
Jenny’s pencil, as she renewed her perplexing 
study, brought Helen back to the thought that 
there was a burdened brain. “ Bear ye one 


HelerCs Opportunities. 


67 


another’s burdens.” “ Is this my opportunity f ” 

“ Jenny, what is the trouble ? You look sober 
enough to match an owl.” 

“ I don’t seem to match him in wisdom if I do 
in sober expression ; though I never could un- 
derstand why owls were made the emblem of 
wisdom. Anyway, I wish I had one here to 
help me through this horrid equation,” said 
Jenny, half crying. 

“ I am not an owl, neither am I wise as they 
are said to be ; but perhaps I can help you ” said 
Helen, going over to Jenny’s desk. “Oh, it is 
that one I 1 remember that. Tom helped me. 
The puzzle is — ” Here a few quick strokes of 
the pencil, a suggestion or two as to signs, and 
Jenny’s face brightened with the sudden illumi- 
nation of her mind, and Helen went back to her 
work. 

It was a little thing. Well, perhaps so ; but 
so is an acorn dropped in the earth. Little things 
are not to be despised. A cup of cold water is 
a little thing, yet what saith the Master of so 
small a thing done in his name? But really, 
this was quite a bit of self-denial on Helenas 
part. In the first place, she had laid out just as 


68 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

much work us she could accomplish before 
Christmas by employing every spare minute, and 
she grudged every speck of the day, outside 
lesson hours, given to other employments. Then 
she hated bother ; she was naturally inclined to 
be selfish in that one respect ; putting herself 
out of the way for other people was not a part 
of her creed ; and, besides, she had no patience 
with dull people. Quick herself to see into 
things, always perfect in recitations, it seemed to 
her to be quite useless to try to help a dull 
scholar. There always would be some to drag 
along in a class ; and if you undertook to help 
them they were sure not to know anjThing about 
what they had gone over, and the rules might as 
well be written in Greek for all the good such 
scholars got out of them. Still, it was worth 
something to Helen to see the bright face of 
Jenny Vosburgh, as an hour later she stood be- 
fore the blackboard working out with quick, 
ready hand that same thirteenth example, to the 
astonishment of better scholars in the class, who 
for once had failed ; and Helen was glad of this 
opportunity to bear another’s burdens. 

But other opportunities were coming to her. 


HeleifCs Opportunities. 


69 


It was that same afternoon. At recess there had 
been a little commotion among the girls ; a 
few of them stood chatting upon the doorstep ; 
presently Minnie Gates joined the group, when 
instantly a hush came over them ; one or two of 
the more lofty turned away ; Flora Niles fell to 
studying her history which she had in her hand. 
Helen sat upon the topmost step with her inter- 
minable crocheting ; she had been too much oc- 
cupied with counting stitches to join in the con- 
versation, but now she noticed the silence, and 
looking up she saw the tears gathering in Min- 
nie’s eyes. Minnie Gates was carrying a burden 
heavy for a young heart. Hers had been a happy 
home until a year ago, when suddenly all its 
brightness went out. The whole community 
was shocked at the discovery that Mr. Gates 
had been concerned in the bank defalcation, by 
which so many had suffered, and the family 
were sunk to the depths of wretchedness. The 
guilty man fled, and mother and daughter were 
left to breast the storm as best they could. 
Minnie would say : “ Mother, I could bear the 
hard work and the sacrifice of all our nice 


70 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

things, if it were not for the disgrace ; but that 
is too hard.’’ 

Then Mrs. Gates would moan and bewail their 
hard fate, until Minnie learned to bear her bur- 
den of slights and scornful looks without com- 
plaining. The school-girls did not mean to be 
unkind ; at least some of them did not. There 
were those to whom Minnie’s poverty was far 
more than her father’s crime, and there were 
others, who, like Flora Niles, turned with a pain- 
ful feeling away from the daughter of a 
Neither Flora nor Helen had known much of 
the girl ; but Helen’s father had been one of the 
heavy losers, and naturally Minnie shrank from 
the daughter of one whom her father had 
wronged ; and Helen herself had never felt 
called upon to trouble herself about her school 
mate in any way. But, to-day the sad, pleading 
face haunted her. After the bell rang and they 
all went in to their books, she kept thinking 
about her, and the result of that thinking came 
out after school. As Minnie went down the 
street alone, as usual, Helen joined her, saying : 

“ I am going up Court street to-night. What 
a lovely day this is. Haven’t you enjoyed it ? 


Helevb% Opportunitie9, 


71 


I just feel like siuging. But, dear me, the cold 
weather will soon be here to stay.’’ 

“ Yes,” returned Minnie, almost too surprised 
to speak, “ and I dread it. I used to love the 
winter; but — it is different now.” 

“ Well, I suppose we ought to make the most 
of these days,” replied Helen. “ I’ll tell you 
what we will do — if the pleasant weather lasts 
until Saturday, we will go to the woods, a lot of 
us girls, and have one more good time this year. 
Won’t we ? ” 

Minnie was surprised into a look of pleasure, 
and an exclamation of — 

“ Oh, delightful. I have not been to the 
woods this fall, and I want to get some mold for 
ray geraniums.” 

“Do you keep plants?” asked Helen. 

“ Only a few now'^ 

“ I have two lovely rose-bushes just alike. I’d 
like to have you take one of them. They are 
very thrifty — none of your hot-house forced 
plants, ni get Tom to bring one around if you’d 
like it?” 

“Oh, thank you. I had a tea-rose, but it 
faded away and died.” 


72 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

Minnie spoke sadly, as if rose-bushes were not 
the only things that had faded away and died. 

“Are you going into the Ancient History 
class ? ” asked Helen. 

“No — I think not. I could take it up as 
well as not, only — ” Minnie hesitated, and the 
quick color mounted to her face. 

“ I knew the other girls of your class in United 
States History were going to take it up. Pro- 
fessor Graves makes it very interesting,” said 
Helen, who was one year in advance of Minnie 
in the school course. 

“Well,” said Minnie, with a frankness which 
Helen’s pleasant, cordial manner called forth, 
“ to tell the truth, I cannot afford to buy a book. 
They are quite expensive, you remember.” 

Helen Betson was visibly embarrassed, and 
her companion wondered if her reference to their 
parents had brought up afresh to Helen’s mind 
its cause, and if this was why the color mounted 
to her cheeks and forehead. Helen had been 
ready to give away her rose-bush ; but her be- 
loved school-books, she had a habit of treasuring 
them carefully. She could never endure to lend 
them ; and when she had said, “ Good-night ” to 


78 


Relents Opportunities. 

Minnie and gone home, she went straight to the 
little book-case and looked them over. There 
they were, from the little First Reader up to her 
geometry and Latin grammar, a graduated row. 
Should she take out the history and break the 
line ? 

“ How foolish I am,” she reasoned. “ But T 
can’t help it. It seems as if these books were a 
part of me. If I had any money — I mean if it 
were not so near Christmas, I would buy a new 
one for Minnie ; and that wouldn’t do, either ; 
it would seem more like charity. It is real self- 
ish of me. Minnie isn’t to blame for her father’s 
villainy ; and she is such a splendid scholar, it 
is a pity that she shouldn’t go on with the class. 
Poor child I I suppose life is a burden to her at 
the best, and I don’t think we girls have any of 
us helped to lighten it as we might. Well, I 
will do this much, anyway.” And this is the 
note that Tom took around to Mrs. Gates’ door : 

Dear Minnie : — I find that my old history 
is almost as good as new. Will 3^ou take it and 
go on with the class ? I shall be so glad to have 


74 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


you. I have no younger sisters to use it, you 
know ; so you can keep it from molding. 

Lovingly, Helen. 

It was a little thing to walk home with a 
schoolmate, and lend her an old, half- worn book. 
So it was; but much grew out of it. First, 
Minnie carried home a lighter heart ; then there 
was a talk that Helen had with Flora Niles and 
Clara Hunting, out of which grew kindly atten- 
tions toward the lonely girl on the part of these 
leaders, and thus the way was smoothed, and the 
law of Christ fulfilled. 




CHAPTER VII. 
FOR Christ’s sake. 


*‘And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the 
name of the Lord Jesus.” 



Robert Niles found ins opportunities. 
That Monday morning he called at the 
parsonage ; he had a communication from his 
mother to Mrs. Ried. Mrs. Niles did not hear 
the sermon, but it may be that the thoughts 
awakened by Flora’s report of it had worked out 
this result. Anyway, Robert was the bearer of 
a note which ran thus ; 

Dear Mrs. Ried : — Will you send over that 
work basket which Flora saw in your room the 

75 


76 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


other day ? My hands are not used to idleness, 
and it will be a favor if you will furnish the 
work for a little time. Don’t refuse me. 

Sincerely, Emma Neles. 

Robert waited in the little sitting-room, listen- 
ing, meantime, to restless footsteps overhead. 
Steps which he knew to be those of the pastor, 
and he said to himself : “ Mr. Ried is troubled ; 
I know by the walk. I wonder if it is anything 
I can help.” To Mrs. Ried : 

“ How is Mr. Ried this morning ? ” 

“ Oh, he is quite tired out. 1 think he is over- 
worked. He made a great many calls last week, 
and with those two funerals and the regular 
Sabbath preparations, he is quite used up. 
Won’t you walk up to the study? I think he 
would like to see you.” 

In that half hour Mr. Niles gained some new 
ideas as to his pastor’s needs, and as to ways in 
which his people miglit bear his burdens. And 
as for the pastor, that restless walk had ceased, 
and as he turned to take up his work again, its 
tangled threads had somehow straightened, and 
its pattern liad grown brighter and less complex. 


For Ohrisfs Sake, 


• 77 

And yet there had been no word of complaint or 
hint of an overworked and burdened brain, on 
the one hand, and no formal or sentimental ut- 
terances of sympathy on the other — such things 
were unlike these strong-hearted men. But 
there was the mingling of that under-current of 
earnestness and unity of purpose which both 
felt, though unexpressed. 

It was at the next Thursday evening meeting 
that Mr. Ried, after alluding to the deep relig- 
ious feeling abroad in the community, said : 

“ I am weighed down with the burden of souls. 
An overpowering sense of responsibility has 
fallen upon me ! Who will share the work ? 
Who will come to the help of the Lord against 
the host of sin ? ” 

Robert Niles came to his feet with a ready 
response. 

“ It seems to me,” he said, “ that the text from 
which our pastor preached last Sabbath morning 
is far-reaching enough to cover this ground — 
that we should not let him bear the burden of 
souls alone. We ought certainly to feel an 
anxiety for the salvation of others. We are 
none of us free from responsibility in this matter. 


78 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

But this thought has come to me with force^ 
that when the burden rests with an unusual 
pressure upon the heart of God’s appointed ser- 
vant, ought we not to be ready to stand by him 
with our prayers, with our most earnest efforts, 
upholding and assisting him in every possible 
way to the furtherance of the cause of Christ. 
To be practical, what shall we do ? Let us re- 
lieve him from all necessity or worldly cares ; 
then let us join him in personal labor for others 
— praying more continually and more earnestly 
for the upbuilding of the kingdom. Let us seek 
for the indwelling of the Holy Ghost that we 
may be strengthened in the faith, and be en- 
abled to carry the burdens of others, as we are 
commanded. Our pastor has a heavy burden of 
pastoral work. We ought to help in that. 
Though we shrink from it, it may be our duty to 
seek out men and press home the claims of 
the Christian religion. It may be our duty to 
go from house to house carrying the warnings 
and the invitations — yes, and the promises of 
the Lord Jesus Christ.” 

Mr. Niles did not consider his duty done with 
these words of exhortation. The next morning 


For Chris f 8 Sake. 


79 


a boy left an envelope at the door of the parson- 
age, containing fifty dollars in bank bills, with 
only a line : 

“ Perhaps the enclosed may lift a burden. 

Yours in Christ.” 

And his words re-echoed in other hearts, and 
the pastor rejoiced in the kindly remembrances 
of his people. But better still was the increased 
earnestness and eagerness with which they 
drank in the words of life, the readiness with 
which they responded to his call for volunteers 
to engage in active work. If he had doubted 
the acceptability of his labor, he could do so no 
longer; and, mutually encouraged and strength- 
ened, pastor and people were moving forward to 
meet boldly the enemies of Christ. 

The next Sabbath morning Mr. Niles was 
making a last study of the Sunday-school lesson 
— not as you may perhaps imagine, with com- 
mentaries spread out before him, nor with the 
Herald and Presbyter even. The helps had 
been laid aside, after careful study in days be- 
fore, and now, with Bible and note-book only, he 
was gathering up his thoughts for the business 
of teaching. 


80 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

A message — a queer message it was — was 
brought in. It was a crumbled and soiled bit of 
paper, and in a hand that Robert Niles afterward 
remembered as showing signs of culture, was 
scrawled : 

“ For the love of Christ help a poor wretch, 
without home, friends, or character.” 

The boy who brought this note, without date 
or signature, said: 

“It’s a man down to the station-house, wliat 
father took up last night, and I tell ye he’s a 
hard un to look at, he is ! ” 

“What does he want of me,” asked Robert, 
wonderingly. 

“ Dunno. ’ Spect he wants some clothes and 
things. He’s awful hard up, I guess.” 

“Yes, no doubt,” returned Mr. Niles, “but 
why does he send to me ? ” 

“ Dunno,” said the boy again. “ ’Sped as 
how father told him on you, ’cause I heard the 
old man — that’s father I mean — say he saw 
you give a man a dollar ’ cause he hadn’t any 
fingers on his riglit hand, so he couldn’t saw 
brackets no more. He thinks a sight of you, 
father does, and I heard that fellow down there 


For Christ'^s Sake, 


81 


say that if he could only start right on’ct, he 
would go it all slick and smooth ; and so I kinder 
think old dad told him maybe as how you’d be 
the chap as would give him a lift.” 

Robert laughed a little at the boy’s rigmarole, 
and then he reflected. A glance at the note — 
“for the love of Christ,” that decided him — he 
could not turn away from that appeal. He 
would see what it meant. 

A short brisk walk brought him to the station- 
house, and there he found the forlorn specimen 
of humanity who had appealed to him for help. 

“ W ell, my friend, can I do anything for you ? ” 

The man looked up, and seemed to be taking 
his measure, though he said nothing. 

“ You seem to be in a little trouble ; what can 
I do for you ? ” repeated Robert Niles. “ I be- 
lieve you sent for me.” 

“ Yes, the keeper here said you’d be the one 
to do me a good turn if anybody would. The 
truth is. I’ve sunken very low, and having gone 
to the bottom I want to start upward again. If I 
could, someway, get a little lift in the beginning, 
I almost think I could climb up myself.” 

Mr. Niles looked at him. He was not a 


82 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


pleasant-looking object to look at, not a very en- 
couraging subject for practical benevolent oper- 
ations. His clothes were ragged and dirty, his 
hair long and uncombed, while his countenance 
bore the marks of dissipation. 

“ You think I don’t look very much like 
climbing. Well, I can’t blame you for that look 
of disgust that your face wears ; but let me tell 
you, young man, that the Master, whom you 
profess to follow, sat with the lowest. I used to 
be his follower, too.” 

This, in a tone so sad and so helpless, that 
Robert was touched. He sat down beside that 
wretched man, and said, kindly ; 

“ Tell me about it. How came you here, and 
what do you wish me to do ? ” 

It was a long story. His name was William 
Walters; he was a German by birth, educated 
at a German university, had been in the Crimean 
war, and later in our war of the rebellion ; he 
had been in almost every country upon the face 
of the globe. His mother had taught him to 
pray, and he really seemed to have known some- 
thing of experimental religion, but in his wan- 
derings he had fallen into sin, and here he was 


For CTirisfs Sake, 


83 


an inmate of the station-house, witliout a penny, 
and, as he said, without a character ; but, seem- 
ingly, desirous of forsaking sin, and taking up a 
new life. Said he ; 

“ I came in here last night, and soon after I 
picked up this little paper. And, do you know, 
it really seemed as if it were my very self that 
was pictured there, and I saw and liated my 
folly as I never did before. And now do you 
think that I could reform ? But what’s the use, 
I’m sure I can not,” 

“ Oh, yes I you can, certainly.” Then Robert 
Niles spoke words of cheer — words that seemed 
for a moment to raise the spirits of the dejected 
man, then he sank back. 

“ It’s no use ; I have been the slave of strong 
drink so long that I have no power left to resist 
the tempter.” 

“ There’s strength in Christ,” replied Robert. 

“ Not for me.” 

“Yes, foryoz^ — forme and for 3^0 u. Come, 
go with me. I’ll find you a place where 3"OU 
will be free from temptation for the present.” 

“ No, I can’t go ; I’ve no claim upon you.” 

“ But you must let me help you ; you sent for 


84 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


me, you remember. Besides, I am seeldng to do 
the will of Jesus Christ, and you know that he 
always stretched out a helping hand.” 

“ But it is of no use.” 

“ You will grow stronger soon, and until you 
do you may depend upon me to help you.” 

Finall}’’, the stranger was persuaded to go with 
his new friend, who took him first to his own 
home, where he fitted him out with decent 
clothes, then he left him in the “ strangers room.” 
In the evening he took him to church. The 
next day he found him a comfortable room, and 
employed him about the store for a few days, 
until he could find work more suited to his ca- 
pacit3^ And all winter he went back and forth 
with this stranger that he might lead him safely 
past the glittering saloons. 

It was a hard struggle for William Walters, 
but with the help of his friend he gained victor- 
ies, and day by day grew in strength ; and gra- 
duallj' he leaned less and less heavily upon Rob- 
ert Niles, and trusting in Christ’s power to keep 
him from falling, he began to stand firmly by 
himself. 

But oh, how many, many times did that faith- 


For Chrises Sake. 


85 


ful friend carry the burden of that soul to the 
throne of grace I He brought him sometimes to 
talk with Mrs. Niles ; he spent whole evenings 
in the homely little room at the boarding-house, 
seeking in every way to uphold and encourage 
the weak and erring brother. Happy for both 
was the day when they could feel assured that 
the reformation was complete. Then they felt 
that the watching and the striving, and all the 
weight of care and anxiety, had not been borne 
in vain. 




CHAPTER VIIL 

A DE^NER-TABLB TALK. 

** There is a way that seemeth right unto a man; but the 
end thereof are the ways of death.” 

f HN, will you take some of Clara’s mince- 
pie?” asked Mr. Norton Graves, ad- 
dressing the Professor, who was making a holi- 
day of Saturday by spending it with his brother. 

“Yes, thank 3’ou. That is,” turning towards 
the smiling hostess, “ I suppose there’s no brandy 
in it ? ” 

“ Not a drop ! ” was the ready response. 

“ No,” said Norton, “ Clara has shut down 
upon everything of that sort. She is a convert 
to Mr. Ried’s theories. For my part I should 
86 


A Dinner-tahle Talk. 


87 


like him better if he were a little more liberal in 
some of his views. But that is always the way , 
people go to such extremes. Dr. Thornton says 
that when they were in college together Hied 
was as wild as any of the boys. (You know 
what that means.) I’ll warrant he was not 
afraid of brandy pies then.” 

“Yes, 1 have heard it all,” said the Professor; 
“and I have also heard that he had a great shock 
in the death of his brother, brother-in-law, or 
some near relative, who was killed by the reck- 
lessness of a drunken coachman, and that he has 
ever since been a strong prohibitionist. I was 
glad to hear him come out so boldly last Sabbath. 
A gfeat many have been wondering what stand 
he would take ; but he left no room for specula- 
tion on this point. His position was fully defined.” 

“Well,” returned the brother, “for my own 
part I was sorry. I don’t think he has any call 
to touch upon what properly belongs to political 
speakers. Ministers have nothing to do with 
legislation and law, nor with the subjects be- 
longing to these departments.” 

The Professor smiled. 

“ You would narrowly circumscribe the duties 


88 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

of the ministerial office, and make the range of 
subjects from which a minister may choose very 
narrow.” 

“ How so ? ” 

“ Why, murder, theft, slander, perjury, fraud, 
and a host of wickedness besides, have been 
made subjects of legislation. Of course the 
minister of the gospel has no business to preach 
against any of these sins. The political men, the 
lawyers, will take care of all such matters. 
Strange if a pastor may not warn his flock, es- 
pecially the 3 ’oung, against the beginnings of 
falsehood, because there is a law against the ex- 
treme of that sin. He may not warn against the 
habit of backbiting and evil-speaking, because 
the law provides a penalty in the case of the 
slanderer. He may not caution that boy against 
taking the advantage of his schoolmate in that 
knife trade, because lawyers look after the cases 
of defaulters.” 

“Now, John, you know you are talking non- 
sense I ” said Norton, laughing. 

“ Am I ? I don’t see how you make that out. 
If a pastor may warn his people against these 
sins for which the law provides a penalty, 


A Dinner^tahle Talk* 


89 


and if he may warn against those heart-sina 
with which human law does not deal, why may 
he not preach against that which gives occasion 
for so much discipline in the Church of Christ, 
which so hinders the success of the gospel which 
they present? It is you who talk nonsense. 
The truth is, ministers and Christian men have 
left it to political men too long. If this liquor 
traffic be an evil, then let’s have warnings rung 
out from every pulpit in the land.” 

“ Well, I don’t like such a thing just before 
election,” said Mr. Norton Graves. “ I don’t 
like the phrase, Electioneering sermon* ’ ” 

The Professor laughed this time. 

“ Well, if you don’t like it, why use it,” 1 
should never think of giving Mr. Ried’s sermon 
that designation. It does not apply in the least.” 

“Well, that is what the rabble call it,” re- 
turned his brother. 

“ The rabble ! Seems to me, Norton, you are 
suddenly very sensitive to the opinions of the 
rabble. If a lot of ruffians had planned to steal 
into your house and do you an injury, you would 
not mind the opinions of the rabble when Mr. 
Ried made an outcry, though you might think 


90 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


he was overstepping the circumscribed limits of 
his sphere if he interfered and gave you a note 
of warning,” with which bit of sarcasm the Pro- 
fessor pushed his empty plate from him, and 
rested his folded arms upon the edge of the 
table. The hostess smiled, for she understood 
what that meant. It was a trick of the Pro- 
fessor when he had made up his mind that there 
was a great deal to be said, and that the time 
had come for saying it. 

“ See here, Norton, you are a temperance man.” 

“ Yes ; but I am not afanatic,^^ 

“ Thank you for the implication. If by a fa- 
natic you mean one in dead earnest, I am a 
fanatic, and I do not consider it an uncompli- 
mentary appellation. As I was saying, you must 
see that there is great need of direct legislation 
against the traffic in intoxicating drinks. The 
temperance people have reasoned, remonstrated 
and persuaded ; and in spite of reason or re- 
monstrance the traffic goes on. The dealei-s 
will not be persuaded to abandon a money- 
making business. The consumers will not be 
persuaded to break away from that which holds 
them by the power of appetite. And if we do 


A Dinner-table Talk, 


91 


succeed in helping now and then one to break 
the fetters, there is the fresh recruit for the army 
of drunkards to fill his place.” 

“Of course, John, I acknowledge the need of 
legislation, but you go to such lengths.” 

“Yes, there is a difference in our ideas of 
right legislation on this subject. You assume 
that our acknowledged evil — one which, if let 
alone, would spread ruin and desolation through- 
out the land — should be restricted. I ask that 
it should be prohibited. You would limit its 
power ; I would destroy it altogether. Think 
of a law restricting and regulating theft, or 
frauds I It is the duty of a Christian people to 
remove evil from their midst, not to protect it.” 

“But,” said Mr. Norton Graves, “I doubt if 
we have the right to destroy the business en- 
tirely.” 

“ Well, if you consider that we have laws 
upon our statute books prohibiting nuisances, 
and forbidding such uses of private property as 
shall be to the injury of our neighbor ; and when 
you consider how much greater a nuisance is 
this liquor business than any 3’ou find mentioned, 
and how much greater the injury inflicted by it, 


92 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

I think you will scarcely say we have no right 
in this case. Surely, if we may prohibit the 
lesser, we may the greater.” 

“ Well, John, I did not know that you were 
such an ardent advocate of the prohibition sys- 
tem,” said the brother. 

“ I don’t think I was ever so decided until 
lately. I see now that there is no middle course.” 

The conversation was protracted, and there 
were two or three eager listeners. There was 
Lydia Elmer, who had pitched upon this Satur- 
day to visit her old friend Clara Graves. These 
two had not outgrown their girlish intimacy, and 
this was the one house where Lydia paid frequent 
visits. Now, with glowing eyes and burning 
cheeks, she took in every word of this talk of the 
brothers. The echo of Mr. Ried’s words reached 
her ear and kindled an interest, and as the talk 
went on, her friend joining, and Robert Niles, 
who was also present, putting in a word now 
and then, plans of working were suggested, and 
though Lydia said nothing, great resolves were 
taking shape in her heart. And, too, Robert 
Niles found that his zeal was being kindled 
into a fresh flame, and he carried some of it 


A Dinner-table Talk, 


93 


out to the Clarkson neighborhood ; and the few 
words he dropped there awakening an intense 
interest, to his utter astonishment he found him- 
self besieged for a regular speech upon the fol- 
lowing evening. His friend, Newton Clark, 
looked on, listened and smiled, thinking “ what 
a good day it was for the Clarkson neighborhood 
when I hit upon Bob for the place I ” 

But perhaps the strongest impression was 
made upon a fourteen-year-old boy who sat a 
silent listener during the dinner hour, or after 
dinner hour. He was a nephew of the Graves 
Brothers, who was a favorite with both uncles ; 
but the boy liked better the lively, genial ways 
of Uncle Norton, the more serious manner of the 
other being less to his taste. But to-day, listen- 
ing with eager, boyish interest to the discussion 
of great principles, he said at last within 
himself, “I declare, I do believe Uncle John 
is right. When I am old enough I’ll vote the 
way he does. But, dear me,” he added, “it 
will all be over by that time. Slavery is used 
up, and now if they go and finish up this liquor 
business, what will be left for us boys to fight 
for when we are men ? — that’s what Td like to 


94 Editing and Re-echoing. 

know.” And from that hour Frank Thornton 
set his face resolutely toward the point to which 
all true Christian men are now looking, deter- 
mined to be in the front of the battle, only fear- 
ing that it would be “ over and done.” 

“ I don’t think there is much accomplished by 
that kind of preaching,” remarked Mr. Hunting, 
as he walked home from church that Sabbath 
morning. 

W ell, perhaps not. 

“ I, too, have my doubts as to the good results 
of that sermon,” responded Mr. Graham. 

So had Mr. Ried ; but he was content to leave 
results with Him whose gospel he preached. 
And could Messrs. Graham and Hunting, and 
Mr. Ried himself, have heard its echoing and re- 
echoing in the hearts and voices of some of the 
congregation, they might have thought differ- 
ently as to the practical results. “For thou 
knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or 
that.” 



CHAPTER IX. 

GOING FOBWARD. 

“Speak unto the children of Israel, that they go forward.” 



ROFESSOR Graves walked up Court 
street at a quicker pace than was usual 
with him. After the close of the afternoon ses- 
sion he had sauntered down to the post-office, 
chatting with some of the boys, who were fond 
of the grave man, who seemed to understand 
them, sometimes better even than they under- 
stood themselves. The evening mail brought 
him a letter which surprised and perplexed him 
considerably, and now he was hurrying home to 
consider its proposition. It ran like this: 

95 


96 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

Deb Mister Professor Graves: — Pve 
ben tlnnkin’ as how sumthing had orter to be 
dun down here. We are under a hevy yok. 
From the winder of mi hous is 14 rum-shops. I 
mean places where the wicked stuff is sold and 
delfc out to men, women and children ; and 
broils and fites is a goin’ on evry nite. Now I 
want sum of you Christian folks up there in the 
village to cum down here and help pray away 
the curse. I read as how the women out in 
Ohio drove the rum-sellers all out with their 
prayers, and I’se been praying ever since ; but 
it’s kinder discouragin’ when one ignorant woman 
is fightin’ all alone agin such a mighty host. I 
remember as how David went out alone to fight 
the giant. But then, you know, he had a great 
army behind him, and I kinder thinks that sorter 
gin him courag. My man, he’s the wust of ’em 
all ; but Satan went out uv him the other night 
just long enuf to let him promis that I mite hav 
a meetin’ here — and he never breaks a promis ; 
so if you will come, I promis you a clean fioor 
and a bit of a stool to sit on. I hearn as how 
you talked good like in the boys’ meetin’, so I 


Going Forward. 


97 


makes bold to ask you to cum and help us pray 
away the devil. Next Frida nite, at Tim Har- 
ley’s. Your obejint sarvent, 

Maby Habley. 

Taking into account the paper, the spelling 
and the penmanship, with the style of composi- 
tion, this was altogether the most unique speci- 
men of letter-writing that the Professor had ever 
seen ; but he scarcely gave these details a 
thought just then. The request was such a 
strange one — Tim Harley’s ! How well he 
knew the place I It was down by the depot, a 
little around the corner. Just a few days pre- 
vious he had been called to a neighboring town 
upon business, and returning by a late train he 
swung himself from the platform, and by way of 
a short cut passed around that same corner. 
From one of the miserable tenement houses is- 
sued the most horrible, brutal profanity he had 
ever heard and through the curtainless window 
Professor Graves saw a sight that made his 
blood boil. It was the old, oft-rehearsed scene. 
The drunken husband and father, bereft of every 
spark of reason, making a brutal attack upon 


98 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

wife and children ; and the Professor hurried 
on, not caring to linger, and not daring to enter 
alone and defenceless. Hailing a policeman, he 
was told that “ it was nothing ; that thing was 
always going on ; supposed they were used to 
it ; ought to be by this time.” And that man 
was Tim Harley — and now he was asked to 
conduct a service in that drunkard’s den I It 
was a presumptuous idea. Why, his life would 
not be safe. What was a drunken man’s prom- 
ise worth I Of course he could not think of 
granting Mrs. Harley’s request. It did seem as 
if something ought to be done; but how and 
who? Surely not himself. Could he take his 
nice notions of propriety and decorum, his fas- 
tidious tastes and delicate perceptions, down to 
that Five Points of this young city I This was 
not the way he put it, of course ; but it was, 
nevertheless, true that Professor Graves had 
fastidious tastes and fine notions about many 
things. Didn’t Mrs. Lane, with whom he board- 
ed, know that! For was he not proud of his 
two or three rare pictures, and did he not insist 
upon certain arrangements in his room which 
very much disturbed that lady, all so that those 


doing Forward. 


99 


pictures might hang in a good light? And did 
she not buy a bread-slicer because the Professor 
one day smiled at the unevenly cut slices? and 
didn’t he always appear in shining linen and broad- 
cloth upon which no speck of dust dared rest. Oh, 
the Professor was very particular^ and very fond 
of order and system. It did not seem possible 
that he could be called upon to go into that 
dark, dingy quarter, and mix with those miser- 
able wretches. Finally he went to see Mr. Ried. 

“Well, Professor,” said the pastor, with a 
gleam of light in his face, when he had read the 
queer letter. “ I think this comes in answer to 
my prayer. I have had my thoughts directed 
toward that part of the city for some time, and 
I could find no way of getting in there. Now 
the Lord has opened the door — ” 

“ A narrow door, I must say,” said the Pro- 
fessor, a little gloomily. 

“Even a crack would answer to put in a 
lever,” returned Mr. Ried. “ Now I'll tell you 
what to do ; just take Mr. Niles and two or 
three more and go down there. Don’t open a 
meeting by reading a chapter of the Bible, nor 
even by prayer, or, rather, sing a prayer. In 

LOFa 


100 


Echoing and Re echoing. 


fact I would sing most of the praying. There 
are some good voices among these people. I 
heard some in this same Harley’s shop one day. 
But you’ll know how to do it. It shall be given 
you what to say. Shall we carry the matter to 
the Master, and ask him what and how f ” 

Still Professor Graves doubted. 

“ I do not see my way clear in this,” he said. 

“I suppose that was about what Jonah said,” 
returned Mr. Ried, “but none the less is it true 
that he was sent by the Lord. My dear brother, 
I think we do not often see the way clear very 
far ahead. If you and I are sure that it is the 
word of the Lord, that should suffice for us. I 
suppose that we might all do more and better 
work if we questioned less.” 

“ Yes, I have no doubt of it,” said Professor 
Graves. “We profess to walk by faith, yet we 
are very anxious to take long strides ahead. 
There is not much faith about it when we are 
determined to see things for ourselves.” 

“ There has always been a fascination in the 
story of the passage of the Red Sea,” said the 
Professor. “ To think of that mighty host com- 
ing down to the very edge of the water, in obe- 


Going Forward, 


101 


dience to the command, ‘ Go forward,* knowing 
not how God was to work their salvation, never- 
theless obeying and going forward.” 

“And will every brother ‘go forward?’” 
asked the pastor. 

“ Unquestioning ! ” answered the Professor. 

This was the close of a long conversation full 
of plans and suggestions, and now the Professor 
went out, strengthened for his work. 

It might have been a month later when, meet- 
ing Lydia Elmer at his brother’s house, Professor 
Graves said : 

“ Miss Elmer are you a very busy woman ? ” 

“ Indeed I am,” she replied, promptly. 

The gentleman looked somewhat doubtful, 
and she went on. 

“ Why shouldn’t I be a busy woman, I’d ask? 
Since Rachel opened her school and made such a 
hobby of it, all the housekeeping falls upon me, 
and, besides, I have to help bundle up the little 
midgets when it rains, kiss their fingers when 
they come in half-frozen, and look after their in- 
terests and other people’s affairs generally.” 

“ Well,” said the Professor, “if you are such 
a busy person, you are exactly the one to lay 


102 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

more work upon. The people who have leisure 
are the ones who will not part with it. I’d 
never ask men or women with nothing to do 
to break in upon their habit of do-nothingism — 
but those wdio are just overwhelmed with work 
are the very ones who can always do a little 
more.” 

“ But u hat are you coming at?” said Lydia, 
slightly impatient. 

rU come to it at once,” returned the gentle- 
man, “only let me first tell hov/ my idea origi- 
nated,” and hereupon he proceeded to show her 
his remarkable letter, and to give an account of 
his work in that uncongenial quarter, telling of 
that first evening, in the low, dark room where 
Tim Harley lived ; of Tim Harle}^ himself, who, 
completely overcome by liquor, lay in the corner, 
utterly unconscious that hymns were being sung 
and prayers being offered. There were, per- 
haps, a dozen persons present at that first meet- 
ing. Since then they have been down every 
week, and he was growing really interested ; and 
now for his scheme, which was to open an even- 
ing school. Lydia laughed a little at first, and 
said within herself, “ What a Quixotic scheme ; ’’ 


Q-oing Forward, 


108 


but as he unfolded his plans she grew interested 
and was ready to promise her assistance. 

“ Of course we need some teachers,” he went 
on. “ Can you manage to give two evenings a 
week ? Those girls need to be taught every- 
thing, I should judge.” 

Of course Lydia fell in with his ideas, though 
she kept saying to herself, “ What an absurd 
thing to do. I declare, the people are taking up 
ideas, I believe it is Mr. Ried. He is as full of 
new-fangled notions as he well can be.” A va- 
cant room in the neighborhood having been se- 
cured, and fitted up very simply and roughly 
with seats and desks, the evening school opened 
with abouh twenty girls and boys as pupils. 
And such a time as there was trying to organize ! 
The girls were given over into Lydia Elmer’s 
care, and she soon found that it was true — they 
needed to be taught everything. She was pre- 
pared with basted work, and as soon as she could 
bring them into anything like order she gave 
them a sewing lesson. Such a motley group as 
they were. Some had made very commendable 
2Lt fixing up ; others came in all their filth 
and rags, but there they were, a dozen immortal 


104 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

souls, with just this one opportunity of learning 
about God and heaven, of the way to please the 
one and gain the other. When Lydia Elmer 
went home after that first evening’s work I 
think she felt a sense of responsibility, such as 
she had never carried before ; and the prayer 
she offered that night came nearer true prayer 
than any she had uttered for years. It w'as a 
pleading for a measure of wisdom to be given 
her for a fitness for the work. 

She had entered upon the work because the 
Professor had inspired her with some of his own 
enthusiasm, but now the work had entered into 
her, had awakened her so thoroughly that she 
was not likely to sleep again. Life was never 
more to be a sameness and a weariness to Lydia 
Elmer. A dozen new interests had sprung into 
existence in the persons of those wild, unre- 
strained girls. For the advancement of their 
interests she labored and studied and prayed. 
Meanwhile the pastor, in his study, thanked God 
that one by one his people were coming to the 
front. 



CHAPTER X. 


HELEN GETS AHEAD. 


* CHARITY STJFFEEETH LONG, AND IS KIND.* 



CAN not put up with this sort of man- 
agement much longer I ” 

Mr. Robert Niles spoke more excitedly than 
accorded with his usual manner ; evidently some- 
thing exasperated him to an unusual degree. To 
his mother’s softly put question he replied in a 
slightly modified voice ; people were apt to use 
a softer tone when conversing with Mrs. Niles. 

“ What is it ? ” she asked. 

“ Oh, it is only Ryle ; But I really am tried 
almost beyond endurance ; he pays no sort of at- 

loS 


106 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


tention to any of my suggestions, and sets at 
defiance all the ordinary rules of courtesy, to say 
nothing of the terms of our agreement. 

“ Why do you not expostulate with him ? ” 
asked Mrs. Niles. 

“ Expostulate I As if I had not done that 
until I fairly dread to speak to him of our busk 
ness relations.’^ 

“ Why, is he inclined to be quarrelsome ? ” 

“ Oh, no ; he is either provokingly indifferent 
or just about to do whatever is suggested ; then 
he goes off and does nothing at all.” 

“What does Mr. Smith say?” asked Mrs. 
Niles. 

“ That is the worst of the whole business. His 
patience has given out, and he declared that 
if Ryle did not withdraw he would. Of course 
he won’t do that; but if I would consent he 
would drive Ryle out of the concern before to- 
morrow night.” 

The business firm of “Smith & Ryle” had 
been principally “ Smith ” until Mr. Robert Niles 
came home aud threw his energies and consider- 
able money into the concern, which was now 
“ Smith & Niles,” Mr. Ryle having by some un* 


Helen Gets Ahead, 


107 


fortunate private speculation exhausted his own 
means as well as some of his partner’s, was glad 
to retire to a subordinate position in the firm 
upon the admission of a new element in the per- 
son of Mr. Niles. Mr. Ryle’s business capacities 
might have been good but for one unfortunate 
characteristic — a want of diligent application 
stamped upon everything he undertook, 
and it was this fault which so vexed the soul of 
our friend Robert Niles. Just now the spring 
elections were approaching, and Mr. Ryle was a 
candidate for a somewhat lucrative office in the 
gift of the people, and, like the mass of office- 
seekers, was being swallowed in a vortex of po- 
litical scheming. Business suffered even more 
than usual, and, as we have seen, the patience of 
both senior partners had given out. 

Flora Niles had listened to the conversation of 
her mother and brother for some time without 
speaking, until Robert, in illustrating Lis causes 
of vexation, mentioned some rather aggravating 
circumstances, then she burst out : 

“ I declare Rob, I would not put up with 
such things ! It is a perfect shame I I just 


108 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

wonder that you will let things go on so. I 
know I wouldn’t.” 

Mrs. Niles smiled at the outburst. 

“ My little girl has yet to learn that there are 
better ways of doing things than just throwing 
overboard the things that vex us. Sometimes 
it may be our duty to carry our burden for a 
time ; out of the patient bearing of a burden may 
grow some good to ourselves or others.” 

“ But people can’t expect other folks to go 
dragging them through the world while they pull 
the other way, and if I were in Bob’s place I 
wouldn’t try to help folks that won’t help them- 
selves.” 

“ But, Flora,” said her brother, turning to look 
full in the face of the household darling, but not 
like the mother, smiling at the indignant pro- 
tests she had been uttering — he was too thor- 
oughly vexed and tried to smile — “ but, Flora, 
what would he do ? He has no other depend- 
ence.” 

“ Well, if you can afford to do his work, and 
your own too, and give him the benefit all the 
same as if he did it, why, go ahead. I’ve no 
mere breath to spare in commiseration.” 


Helen Grets Ahead. 


109 


Miss Flora turned to “ that horrid geometry ” 
with an air that said : “ There, sir, I have given 
you my best. Don’t expect anything further 
from me.” 

Mr. Niles sat looking into the fire, wearing a 
perplexed and thoughtful expression. As he 
rose to put on his overcoat before going to the 
store, he said : 

“ W ell, I don’t know of any way except to get 
clear of the fellow as soon as we can without 
making a great stir.” 

Flora looked up quickly, and her face betrayed 
just a gleam of the thought, “ J ust what I said.” 

Matters at the store went on very badly all 
that week. The senior partner growled every 
time he met Robert Niles, and that gentleman 
felt himself growing desperate over the way 
things were going, or rather the way they were 
not going. 

Saturday night, with its promise of rest, came 
as a welcome respite, and with his vexations put 
as far as possible from him, Mr. Niles went 
through the Sabbath as usual. He had grown 
into a habit of wondering what Mr. Ried would 
have for him, or what he should be able to draw 


110 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

out of the sermon for himself. As we all know, 
we are apt to find what we look for, so our friend 
was always sure of his lesson. To-day he found 
it in these words ; “ Charity suffereth long, and 
is kind.” The lesson of brotherly love was 
pressed home to the hearts of the people. The 
question. How long ought we to suffer evil at 
the hands of others, and how far ought we to re- 
sist the evil that others would do unto us ? was 
well discussed, and it is certain that at least one 
man who listened concluded that he had been 
wanting in that charity that “ suffereth long,” 
and, furthermore, had he been alwaj^s kind? 

Mr. Ryle was his brother in the Church. Was 
he being true to his covenant vows? Ought he 
not to bear with the infirmities of the weak one ? 
Who would, if not himself? How did he know 
but that his own example of steady, persistent 
application to business might not in time have 
its effect upon the weaker brother? Anyway, 
would it not be well to bear a little longer ? 

They were simple thoughts that were brought 
out of this familiar text, illustrated and enforced 
by the teachings and example of Christ. They 
did not startle by their novelty, but by their 


Helen Gets Ahead, 


111 


very simplicity and homeliness reached by a 
direct line the heart which sought the truth — 
seeking to know and to do the will of Christ. 

W ell, Flora,” said Robert, as the two walked 
home together, “ I suppose you are ready witli 
a practical application of the sermon ? ” 

“ Well, guess I’ll have to give in, as they say, 
on the Mr. Ryle question ; but, to tell the truth, 
Rob, I think Mr. Ried does hit pretty close. I 
couldn’t help wondering if he could know of 
some things that have happened at school lately. 
Of course he couldn’t ; but all the same the ser- 
mon fitted closel3\” 

“ Did it ? ” asked the brother, smiling. “ Tell 
me about it.” 

“ Oh, there isn’t much to tell ; only Helen and 
I have been so vexed ! Helen has been just 
as kind as she could be to Jenny Vosburgh, and 

the hateful ” Flora caught Robert’s look, 

and checked herself. “Well, I suppose I may 
say she has been treating Helen unkindlj", and I 
have tried to persuade Helen to drop her en- 
tirely.” 

“Well,” said Robert, as Flora paused, “sup- 


112 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

pose you should drop her, as you call it, what of 
it?’’ 

“ Wh}^, you know that we — why, Helen and 
I — well, Rob, you see that we rather lead the 
rest.” 

Again Flora caught a queer look, that caused 
her to hesitate and flounder, and stop altogether. 

Robert laughed. “ Charity vaunteth not it- 
self,” he repeated. 

“ Ob, you do catch a body up so,” she said, 
half vexed. 

“Well?” Robert waited for the rest of 
Flora’s story, but it did not seem to be coming. 

“ Well? ” he repeated. 

“ I shan’t tell you any more,” she answered. 
“ I don’t approve of evil speaking.” 

Robert did not mind losing the rest, knowing 
as he did that Flora had made her application as 
well as himself. 

Helen was waiting at the gate, stopping a 
moment only for a word of greeting. Robert 
passed on, leaving the two girls together, sus- 
pecting that they had something to say to each 
other. 

Flora swung her muff by the chords, and 


Helen Q^ets Ahead* 


113 


“ wondered if it would rain.” Helen “ didn’t 
know ; she hoped not.” 

Then suddenly Flora said : 

“ What about Jenny Vosburgh? ” 

“ I wonder if you’ve been thinking about her, 
too I ” said Helen, looking up with a beaming 
face. 

“Yes, I was almost sure that Mr. Ried knew 
about things at school,” returned Flora. “ Of 
course he didn’t, but I felt the hit all the same.” 

“ So did I.” Helen’s words were uttered with 
a touch of sorrow in them, and she added: 
“ Flora, we must be more patient with Jenny ; 
perhaps we may win her love even yet. As for 
that, I never cared for her love until to-day.” 

Flora looked a little surprised. “Well,” she 
said, “ you have got farther than I have if you 
have got to that point. I can’t say that I am 
longing for Jenny Vosburgh’s love. She isn’t 
quite to my taste, but I do feel condemned about 
her. Of course you and I ought to be above 
minding such things.” 

Here Flora caught a look on Helen’s face that 
brought back Robert’s slowly repeated sentence, 
“ Charity vaunteth not itself.” 


114 


Echoing and Re-echoing* 


“ Then we will not object to her joining the 
Club ? ” asked Helen. 

“ I can’t, after this morning,” returned Flora. 

Half an hour later Flora met her brother at 
the dinner-table. 

“ Did you and Helen fix it ? ” he asked with 
a meaning smile. 

“Yes, we did,” she answered, “only Helen 
has reached out way beyond me in her applica- 
tion.” 

“ May I ask how ? ” said Robert. 

“ She has gone to the ‘ hopeth all things.’ ” 

“ What conclusion have }• ou come to with re- 
gard to Mr. Ryle ? ” asked Mrs. Niles that Mon- 
day morning. 

“Just this,” was the reply, “ to suffer longer 
and hope for improvement, though my resolve 
to suffer is stronger than my ‘ hope ’ of a change 
for the better.” 

“I advise you to go and talk with Helen,” 
said Flora saucily. “ She is way ahead of you 
in that direction, though I am sure I don’t know 
how she got there.” 

“ Helen is growing,” said Mrs. Niles, signifi- 
cantly. 



CHAPTER XL 


SEVEEAL SUEPEISED PEOPLE. 


“Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit, serving the 
Lord.” “ The hand of the diligent maketh rich.” 



EN Mr. Niles reached the store that 
morning he found Mr. Ryle at his post. 


This was quite unusual, at least of late. How- 
ever, he betrayed nothing of his suprise, unless 
it betrayed itself in the hearty “ good-morning ” 
with which he greeted him, adding ; 

“ You’ve the start of me this morning.” 

“Well, yes, a little. I thought I would get 
these papers righted and send some letters off 
by the early mail.” 

“All right,” answered Robert, cheerily. “And 


”S 


116 Echoing and Tle-eclioing, 

anotlier thing, aren’t we nearly out of bill- 
heads? ” 

“Yes. I’ll attend to that as I go to the ex- 
press-office. You remember ” (this last in reply 
to a look of inquiry) “ those packages of Allen’s ; 
are they to go this morning ? ” 

“ To be sure I I had forgotten that I ” And 
for a moment Robert Niles felt as if he had 
changed places with Mr. Ryle. But, recovering 
himself, he continued : “ And while you are 
about it, wouldn’t it be well to have some letter- 
heads printed ? ” 

“ I think so ; and how would this do for the 
form ? ” pushing a sheet of paper toward Robert 
as he spoke. 

“ That is good,” was replied. Then Mr. Niles 
walked on to his own desk, but presently he re- 
turned. 

“ What about that business of Shepherd’s ? ” 
he asked. 

“ Oh, that is all right ; I saw Shepherd this 
morning, and he said return the goods, so I sent 
Tom over at once for fear he would change bis 
mind.” 

Mr. Niles once more walked down the length 


Several Surprised People, 117 

of the store, this time in an utterly bewildered 
state of mind. What had come over Mr. Ryle ? 
At tliis rate the patience and long-suffering in 
which he had schooled himself would not be 
brought into use. Perhaps he was disappointed 
and half vexed that he had been deprived of the 
opportunity for the exercise of self-denial. 

He waited for the arrival of the senior partner, 
and most thoroughly enjoyed that gentleman’s 
look of surprise at seeing Mr. Ryle busy at work 
at that hour. Then something prompted him to 
make another suggestion ; perhaps he was de- 
sirous of finding out just how wide a range Mr. 
Ryle’s newly-developed interest in business had 
taken. Anyway, as Mr. Ryle came in, after at- 
tending to the business already planned, Robert 
said : 

“ I suppose we ought to attend to the renewal 
of that policy in the Grand Company.” 

“ Yes,” was the prompt reply ; “ I have thought 
of that, and just now as I came up I met the 
agent, and made an arrangement to meet him at 
the office this afternoon. I wanted to consult 
you about it ; I think there should be' a reduc- 


118 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


tion of premium ; the risk is much lessened 
since the date of the old policy. 

Robert Niles was never more astonished in 
his life. But this was not the end; it seemed 
to be a day of marvels, all tending in one direc- 
tion. Just before noon one of Mr. Ryle’s politi- 
cal friends came in. He entered into conversa- 
tion with him, and presently Mr. Ryle was 
heard to say ; 

“ I can’t go to-day.” 

“ But the matter is urgent.” 

“ So is business,” returned Mr. Ryle. 

“ But this is business,” said the other. 

“Well, it’s not like business that one is 
pledged to.” 

“I don’t know about that,” said the friend. 
“ Seems to me you are pledged to this.” 

“ I do not consider that I am,” said Mr. Ryle. 
“ To tell the truth, I have done more of that sort 
of thing in the past than I mean to in the future.” 

“Well,” said the gentleman, “if you back 
down in this way you may expect to lose the 
election.” 

“ Very true ; I may lose it, as you say ; and of 
course I shall regret it ; but it will be more on 


Several Surprised People, 119 

account of your disappointment than because of 
my own loss. To tell the truth, the matter of 
my success has diminished in importance within 
twenty-four hours.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” asked the friend, 
puzzled and half angry. 

Mr. Ryle hesitated. 

“ I don’t know,” he said, “ that I can explain 
myself very clearly.” 

“ 1 should judge not,” said the other. 

“ W ell, my friend, you see it has come to seem 
to me like this: Here’s m}^ regular business, 
something that is permanent and reliable, and I 
have no right to take my time out of the busi- 
ness any more than as if it were so much money.” 

“ But,” urged his friend, “ it is very near the 
election now, and these last few days may turn 
the scale if we are active.” 

“ It’s of no use to urge me,” said Mr. Ryle. 
“ I have not time to spare for any more campaign 
work.” 

“ Of course you will do as you think proper,” 
said the other, coldly. “ But it seems hardly 
fair to your political friends to back down in thw 
fashion.” 


120 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

“ I’m not backing down,” replied Mr. Ryle. 
“ I simply say that I do not mean to neglect my 
regular work for the sake of trying to influence 
men who do not know their own minds.” 

“ But suppose you should be elected after all, 
what about your business iu that case ? ” 

“ Of course 1 should have to make some ar- 
rangements to meet the necessity. But that 
would be very different.” 

“ Well, I must say that this is an unheard of 
way of conducting a campaign I But if this is 
to be your course I must bid you good-morning.” 

Mr. Ryle resumed his pen, a perplexed ex- 
pression rested upon his face, and he worked 
nervously. Mr. Niles had been a curious spec- 
tator during this interview, and was surprised as 
well as relieved to see the visitor depart alone. 
Had he been present at Mrs. Ryle’s tea-table 
that evening his astonishment must have been 
augmented. 

That little lady was a model housekeeper ; all 
the appointments of the house were in excellent 
taste, and surely an indulgent husband and father 
would find it hard to deny any reasonable re 


Several Surprised People, 121 

quest, when so much pains was taken to make 
home a comfortable and happy resting-place. 

As Mrs. Ryle passed the puffy biscuit the 
second time she remarked : 

“ Laura was in a little while ago to see if we 
would go to the entertainment to-night.” 

Mr. Ryle did not reply immediately, and his 
wife continued: 

“ I told her I would send word round after 
tea.” 

Still Mr. Ryle was silent. He was not often 
guilty of such a piece of rudeness. Mrs, Ryle 
looked her astonishment. 

“ Well,” she said, this time just a trifle of im- 
patience giving a spirit to her words that was 
not unbecoming, so her husband thought, as he 
smiled back her answer to her — “ Well, what 
word shall I send ? I'm not so very anxious to 
go, but some answer must be sent.” 

Now, this meant that she had been very anx- 
ious to go with her friends until that moment 
when her husband’s manner had discouraged 
her. 

Mr. Ryle understood this perfectly, and he 


122 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

sought to make amends for his fault in not re- 
plying sooner. 

“ Well, Anna, I would like to go, but I do not 
think I can get away from the store this evening. 
How would it do if you were to go with Laura 
and her husband?” 

“ Thank you, but I’m not in the habit of going 
out with other people’s husbands.” 

It must be confessed that Mrs. Ryle’s reply 
was somewhat tart, and as she was usually of a 
sweet and sunny temper, this sliarpness was the 
more conspicuous. 

“ Perhaps I could come round later,” said her 
husband, mildly. 

“ Oh, no, I don’t care to go without you.” 

“ I’m sorry to have you miss it, but, really, 
Anna, we are very much hurried just now at the 
store.” 

“ It’s no matter,” returned the lady, “ but this 
hurry has come on very suddenly, has it not ? ” 

There was a bit of sarcasm in this remark 
which Mr. Ryle could not but feel, remembering 
how few evenings he had spent at the store of 
late.” 

'‘Well,” my dear, he said, “I shall have to 


Several Surprised People, 123 

confess that I have been rather negligent of 
late, and now I shall have to make up for it.” 

Now, no one could have woudered at, or 
blamed Mrs. Ryle if she had suggested tljat his 
conscientious scruples came at a very inconvenient 
time. It was queer that when she asked such 
an unusual favor as an evening’s pleasure to- 
gether he should plead business as an excuse, 
when she very well knew that he had been going 
hither and thither almost every evening for 
weeks, seemingly without a tliought of the inter- 
ference of business. But, growing ashamed of 
her momentary ill-humor, to her credit be it told, 
she held her peace. 

Two or three days passed before Mr. Niles 
ceased to be surprised at Mr. Ryle’s regular at- 
tention to business. Every morning he said to 
himself, “ I wonder how long it will last ? ” 

Every time any of Mr. Ryle’s intimates came 
in he fully expected to see them walking off 
with their captive, but after a while it came to 
be quite a matter of course that the two young 
men should meet at an early hour and work to- 
gether through the day. Then, after a time, a 


124 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

friendship sprung up between them which was 
valuable to both. 

Now, we must go back to that Sabbath even 
ing when Robert Niles made such heroic re- 
solves to bear, to suffer long, and to be kind — 
resolves which, while they did him good in the 
making by awakening thoughts that never slum- 
bered again, he was never called to put into use. 
In regard to Mr. R 3 de, the change in that gen- 
tleman’s habits seemed to be radical ; and Robert 
often wondered how it came about. And as for 
Mr. Smith, the senior partner, his occupation 
was gone ; he had nothing to fret about. The 
two young members of the firm kept everything 
in such excellent order that there was not room 
for the shadow of a criticism. 

I think that I didn’t mention that Mr. Niles 
thought himself into a severe headache, and did 
not go to church that Sabbath evening. Perhaps 
some things which m 3 ^stified him would have 
been less puzzling had he listened to Mr. Ried’s 
evening sermon. Yet, as he was not one of 
those people who are given to fitting the sermon 
to other folks, it may be that he would have 
been no wiser had he been there. 


Several Surprised People* 125 

But what was more to the point, Mr. Ryle wa% 
there, and fitted the sermon to himself. Mr. 
Ried chose for his text the words which I have 
set at the head of this chapter. He aimed to 
show that a diligent attention to one’s business 
was a Christian duty. Said he : “ In the divine 
ordering of things it becomes necessary for a man 
to spend a large proportion of his time and 
strength in providing for the needs of the body. 
And while we are exhorted not to be unduly 
anxious about the things that pertain especially to 
this life, we are constantly enjoined to be dili- 
gent, and warned against slothfulness. How 
shall we ‘provide all things honest?’ How 
shall we ‘distribute to the necessity of saints, or 
be given to hospitality ? ’ How shall we ‘ pay 
tribute,’ or ‘render to all their dues,’ unless we 
do with might and energy the things set to us ? 
Do not the very words of the sayings of Christ 
imply much in this connection ? Does not the 
text, ‘ we live not by bread alone,’ prove that 
while bread is not sufficient it is indispensable.” 

Mr. Ried found plenty of Scripture to bear 
him out in his assertion that a man slothful in 
business could never prosper ; that there is no 


126 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

such thing as a lazy Christian ; the two words 
do not fit together ; they have no connection. 
There were some plain home-thrusts which Mr. 
Ryle felt keenly ; and yet they were put forth 
with such evident good nature and friendliness 
that there was no way but to take them home 
and see if they could be made useful ; at least 
this is what Mr. Ryle concluded to do. I am 
not sure of that last. I suspect that the thoughts 
advanced followed him home. Anyway, I am 
certain that they staid with him and worked out 
the man’s salvation. 

And, what if he did lose the election ? As 
he came to see more clearly he thanked God 
for the failure. And, by and bj^ when he had 
grown stronger and become a power in the 
world and in the church, people said, “How 
that man is changed ? ” and wondered as to the 
cause. 

And, yet, as Mr. and Mrs. Bates drove home 
from the Sabbath evening service, that was 
fraught with such results, the good man said, 
with sadness in his tones, “It is all very true, 
but I can’t think why Mr. Ried should feel called 
upon to preach such sermons, when there are so 


Several Surprised People. 127 

many in our congregation who are still uncon- 
verted ? ” 

‘"Yes,” responded Mrs. Bates, and her tones 
were, if possible, more sad than her husband’s. 
“ Now if, to-night, he had only preached a stirring 
sermon to the undecided, or something calculated 
to arouse the thoughtless ? ” 

Well, what if he had f 




CHAPTER XII. 



HELEN’S PEONOTJNS. 

“ 8EEKETH NOT HEB OWN ” 

r ELL, I must say that Mr. Ried is making 
a close thing of that thirteenth chapter 
of 1st Corinthians.” This was what Mr. Bates 
said, and what others thought, after several prac- 
tical lessons had been drawn from the words of 
the apostle. “ I don’t quite understand our pas- 
tor,” he continued. “ Now I have been looking 
forward to this time with great hopes of a revival 
in our church, and it does seem as if we needed 
a diiferent sort of preaching.” 

“ Now, Mr. Bates,” said Miss Elmer, “ do you 
128 



Helenas Pronouns. 


129 


mean to say that there was no religion in that 
sermon ? ” 

Mr. Bates looked at his neighbor rather cu- 
riously. There was always something behind 
Miss Elmer’s questions, as Mr. Bates had come 
to know, and he had also learned to be cautious 
in his replies. However, he thought it safe to 
say: 

“ Why, certainly not ; I would by no means 
convey such an idea. On the contrary, it is the 
best kind of religion, practical and quite in keep- 
ing with the teachings of Christ himself ; but 
what I am anxious about is to have the truths 
of the gospel set before the unconverted in a 
manner calculated to awaken.” 

“ I think I understand you, Mr. Bates,” replied 
Miss Elmer, “but you will, I presume, admit 
that we need to improve in the practice of these 
Christian graces which have lately been set be- 
fore us ? ” 

“ Certainly, I am well aware that we are, as a 
church, quite remiss in many of these duties. I 
don’t mean either to make the church carry my 
individual shortcomings, so I will acknowledge 
that I have more than once of late felt the close- 


130 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


ness of Mr. Ried’s remarks. Now just one ques- 
tion more: which will seem likely to be the 
more successful method, that of leaving the 
church to go on careless of these things while 
our pastor tries to convince the world’s people 
that this religion which we exemplify so care- 
lessly is very important to them ; or, that of 
bringing the church up to a higher standard of 
Christian action, teaching those of us who have 
already believed how to carry out into every- 
day living the truths we have accepted, thereby 
fitting the church for the work whenever the 
Spirit may visit us. As I understand the matter 
of which you speak, a revival of religion must 
be where there is religion to revive ; the revival 
must be in the church, though when once w^e 
are revived we may hope for a great ingathering. 
So you see that I do not perceive that Mr. Ried’s 
present selection of topics is untimely.” 

“Nor I either,” said Mrs. Graves; “for my 
part, I like these practical sermons, those that 
come right into the life. I don’t think I appre- 
ciate what you call doctrinal preaching, but the 
doctrine of daily duties I can understand. For 
instance, when Mr. Ried says, ‘ Clara, you ought 


Helen^B Pronouns, 


131 


not to fret when the bread sours, for either it is 
your own fault, or one of those light afflictions 
that are needful in the way of discipline.’ ” 

“ Or when he tells you, as he did yesterday, 
that you make too frequent use of the pronoun 
‘ I,’ ” suggested Mr. Graves, mischievously. 

“ Yes, that too,” returned Mrs. Graves, em- 
phatically ; “ but I could fit that part to other 
people,” she added. 

“ No doubt ; I believe that you ladies have the 
knack of fitting things and people,” returned 
her husband, still teasingly. 

“Well,” said Miss Elmer, “it seems to me 
that we may all find something to take to our- 
selves if we search for it.” 

“ Yes, yes, no doubt,” said Mr. Bates, “ only, 
— well, couldn’t we old Christians get on awhile 
without attention, while the unconverted have 
the truth brought home to them ? ” 

“ Mr. Bates, isn’t there to be a business meet- 
ing of the church to-morrow evening ? ” It w^as 
Lydia Elmer who asked this question, with a 
mischievous gleam in her eyes. 

The Elmers, with Mr. and Mrs. Graves, were 
spending the evening at Mr. Bates’. Rachel 


132 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

Elmer and their host had fallen into a somewhat 
sober talk, with which the others were constant- 
ly interfering in a merry way, though with 
meaning behind their lively talk. They all un- 
derstood Lydia’s allusion to the business meet- 
ing, and Mr. Bates laughed good-naturedly, 
though it was a home thrust. 

In his sermon from the text quoted above, Mr. 
Ried had, in pointing out the ways in which 
Christians sometimes seek their own^ referred to 
the fact that in the secular matters of the church 
it too often happens that there are those who 
are unduly tenacious of their own opinions and 
plans. Now, Mr. Bates, with many remarkably 
good qualities, had this peculiarity. He was 
very firm in his convictions that his own plans 
were the best that could be brought forward ; 
and, inasmuch as he had very carefully thought 
out and thoroughly worked up all the details of 
a plan for the settlement of the matter that was 
to come before the church at the business meet- 
ing referred to, this thrust of Lydia’s was sharper 
than Lydia .herself suspected. 

“ I dread the meeting to-night,” said Robert 


llelerCs Pronouns, 


133 


Niles, the next morning, speaking to his 
mother. 

“ Why ? ” 

“ Oh, I am afraid that there will be a stormy 
time ; there is sure to be so many conflicting 
opinions about the matters to be discussed, and 
of course somebody will be hurt.” 

“ I can not see any necessity for that conclu- 
sion,” replied Mrs. Niles. 

“ Why, somebody’s plans will have to be set 
aside — they will all be sure to have one.” 

“And you?” 

Mrs. Niles’ tone was peculiar, and her son 
understood it. He smiled in appreciation as he 
replied: 

“Well, of course I have my own ideas about 
it, and I confess I can see but one way out of 
the difficulty.” 

“ So I supposed.” 

“ Well, mother, I don’t mean to be obstinate 
in adhering to my own views, but being fully 
convinced as I am — ” 

“ As Mr. Bates is, and as Mr. Crawford is, and 
Professor Graves may be, and a dozen more, each 
in their owm way, what then ? ” 


134 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

“Well, I suppose we can’t all be right,” said 
Robert, still — ” 

“Seeketh not her own,” quoted Flora, not 
looking up from her algebra. 

That business meeting was without a prece- 
dent in the whole history of the Court Street 
Church. The matters were important, and there 
was no lack of interest, and no lack of sugges- 
tions; but what had become of the tenacity 
with which such men as Mr. Bates usually held 
their views? What had become of Robert 
Niles’ convictions ? Were they all swallowed up 
in that love “that seeketh not her own ? ” The 
seeming willingness to give the preference to 
others that prevailed in the meeting gave courage 
to one who generally kept his opinions in the 
back-ground. Old Mr. Bradley was an unpre- 
tending man, plain in manner and homely in 
speech, who, though an ofl&cer in the church, 
seldom advanced any plans in a meeting like the 
present. He was too modest to push his ideas 
and too sensitive to risk being utterly ignored ; 
but to-night there seemed to be a chance for 
him, and as he thought he discovered a fallacy 
in the reasoning of those who had taken a part 


HelerCs Pronouns, 


135 


in the discussion, the old man laid before his 
brethren his views. Actually there had been 
times when some of those Christian men, over- 
come by their excited feelings, would have 
talked down their good Bro. Bradley ; he was 
so old-fashioned in his ideas, they said. 

But to-night, actuated by a sentiment that 
was new, to some of them, at least (experiment- 
ally new), they listened with deference, even 
interest, to the unfolding of the propositions of 
this unpopular brother ; and then, to the sur- 
prise of everybody, himself included, Mr. Bates 
moved that the plan proposed by Bro. Bradley be 
adopted. 

That night Mr. Ried wrote a long ktter to his 
sister, Mrs. Sayles, from which I will copy a few 
sentences : 

“ And now, dear Abbie, I think I may say I 
see signs of better things. My people seem to 
be awakening to a sense of the importance of 
being religious, not only on the Sabbath and at 
the family altar or prayer-meeting, but always 
and everywhere. There is an increased atten- 
tion, at least so it seems to me, to the cultivation 
of the Christian graces, and a growing interest 


136 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


that prompts to the setting of one’s self to the 
work ; for the making of sacrifices for the truth’s 
sake ; and there may be observed on the part of 
some of the more thoughtful ones a desire for 
higher attainments, a diligent seeking to know 
more of the truth. These indications encourage 
and lead me to look for the presence of the Spirit 
in greater power. 

“There are several of our younger friends here 
whom I should like to have you know. The 
sister of the young Mr. Niles reminds me of my 
little sister Abbie as she was at sixteen ; that is 
all I need say of my interest in her ; and her 
chosen friend, Helen Betson, is a girl of great 
promise. I am looking to see both of these 
coming forward to unite with us : they will be 
great additions to the future working force of 
our church. 

“ I am sure that you would be interested in the 
work that is going on at our “ Harley Mission,” 
as we have come to call it. Souls are being 
saved down there — saved from sin and degrada- 
tion in this life — saved through Christ’s blood 
for the life to come. It was a most unpromising 
field, but Professor Graves, with two or three 


Helen's Pronouns, 


137 


helpers, have done nobly in facing the difficul- 
ties and overcoming them, or making them work 
in for the furtherance of their efforts. And is 
there not a great deal in that sometimes, the 
forcing of unfavorable circumstances into your 
own line of planning, or making your plans so 
that the hindrances may become helps ? 

“ There is a young couple living a mile or two 
out of town in whom I am much interested — 
Mr. and Mrs. Graves. The lady is a member of 
our church, but her husband is not ; indeed, he 
has been something of a scoffer. When I first 
came here they came quite regularly to church on 
Sabbath morning, always going home before Sun- 
day-school, and not returning to evening service. 
But of late they are always down for the second 
service, and Mrs. Graves frequently comes in 
for the prayer-meeting Thursday evening. Once 
or twice her husband has come after her a few min- 
utes before the meeting closed, and has taken a 
seat by her side. It would have done you good 
to have seen her face light up the first time that 
occurred. I fancy that this lady’s conscience 
having been aroused, by what means I know 
not, and a more consistent living following, her 


138 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

husband has been brought to wonder at and at 
length respect that which he had heretofore only 
scoffed at. And so much being accomplished, 
may we not hope that he may come into the full 
light of the truth ? 

“ Pray for us, Abbie, that the Holy Spirit may 
be with us continually.” 

Meantime Helen Betsoii had been having her 
thoughts. Now, our friend Helen had one prom- 
inent fault ; this must be confessed, and I do it 
with reluctance, as she is a great favorite of 
mine. Helen would persist in talking a great 
deal ; as Tom said, “ she wanted to be heard.” 
Now Tom was very fond of his sister, but he 
liked to tease her, and used to say provok- 
ingly : 

“ There now, we’ll listen to the lady Helen, 
while she gives the pronoun ‘ I ’ an airing.” 

No doubt it was very foolish of Helen to get 
angry over Tom’s good-natured teasing, but the 
truth is she used to be very much vexed. I do 
not suppose she realized at all how disagreeable 
the habit was, and certainly she had no thought 
that there could be anything in the Bible which 
could be brought to bear upon that fault ; there- 


HelerC* Pronoum, 


139 


fore she was considerably startled to hear Mr. 
Ried say that too frequent use of the pronouns 
“I ” and “ my ’’ or “ mine ” might be counted as 
a sin ; that it is a seeking of one’s own that is 
not a characteristic of that charity which is an 
essential element of the Christian character; 
that a monopoly of the conversation and the os- 
tentatious spreading out of one’s plans, as well as 
the persistent pushing foward the same — these 
were all in some sort a seeking of one’s own. 
These were new thoughts to Helen, and she took 
them home with her. Indeed, Tom was not 
likelj" to let so good an opportunity for teasing 
Helen pass unimproved, so that, with his recalling 
of it and the application which her own con- 
science made, she was not in danger of losing the 
lesson. 

“ That is tlie sixth time Helen has started out 
with ‘ I,’ and then broken off short,” said Tom, 
as they sat at the breakfast-table the next morn- 
ing. “ Say, is your ladyship about to turn over 
a new leaf with the resolve to put personal 
pronouns on it ? Let me tell you that you’ll find 
it awfully inconvenient. I wouldn’t discard my 
old friends so unceremoniously ; it seems sort o’ 
shabby.” 


140 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


Helen’s eyes flashed back an answer, though 
she spoke no word. Tom rattled on ; 

“ Do you suppose that Mr. Ried could have 
come across that composition of yours? Four- 
teen ‘ I’s ’ was quite a crowd for one page of let- 
ter size, wasn’t it, father ? ” continued Tom. 

“What are you talking about?” asked Mr. 
Betson, puzzled. 

“ Oh, haven’t you heard of Helen’s wonderful 
production ? ” and Tom’s eyes twinkled with 
fun. “ You see, Helen had been working a 
cushion, dotting it all over with gilt beads to 
brighten it up, and I suppose that gave her an 
idea. When she read her essay over it seemed 
rather dull, so she plumped down a lot of capital 
I’s, just to brighten it up — to heighten the 
effect, you know.” 

“ Well, we all know that Helen is somewhat 
lavish of the use of that word and its compan- 
ions,” said Mr. Betson, “but I hope she will 
outgrow the habit.” 

“Tom,” said Helen, two hours later, as they 
were going to school, “ I am really going to turn 
over a new leaf. I am not going to talk so 
much. I think it is a bad habit, and I think 1 
will see if I — ” 


Helen's Pronouns, 


141 


“ Six I ” said Tom, with the laugh all ready. 

My I how they rush after each other I " 

“ Now, Tom, don’t laugh at me. I am in 
earnest,” and all the way to school Helen talked 
about her resolution. 

“ What are you laughing at? ” she asked, sud- 
denly noticing the look of amusement which 
Tom’s face wore. 

“Nothing, only I was wondering when you 
were to begin.” 

“ Why, I have begun I When I get up I said 
to myself, I am sure I — ” 

“ Only five of them so far I ” interrupted Tom, 
with a merry laugh. “ Well, Sis, we’ll have to 
give that job up ; Helen Betson will surely be 
too much for you.” 

Did she give up? Convinced of her fault, 
brought to consider it as marring her Christian 
character, as likely to hinder her usefulness, was 
she likely to give up at one failure in hei efforts 
to overcome ? 



CHAPTER XIII. 


“AND PETEB.” 

“ And therefore will the Lord wait that he may be gracious 
unto you, and therefore will he be exalted, that he may have 
mercy upon you; for the Lord is a God of judgment; blessed 
are all they that wait for him.” 



H E day was perfect ; it was a June day. 
The most perfect days of all the year sure- 
ly come to us in June. Old men and women who 
dared not brave the storms of winter, to whom 
the March winds and the fitful April weathei 
came with dread of rheumatic pains, these had 
welcomed this morning bright with sunshine, 
and with it the thought of again going to the 
house of God. It was communion day at the 
Court Street Church, and Helen Betson, with 
her brother Tom, and Flora Niles, and, perhaps, 

14.2 


And Peter. 


143 


a dozen more, came to join themselves to the 
people of God. 

The winter had not passed without a blessing 
for this people ; and Mr. Bates himself had 
ceased to criticise the preaching ; why should he 
find fault when the presentation of the word had 
been blessed, and members of his own house- 
hold had been brought to Christ ? 

When Tom Betson came to talk with his pas- 
tor of his newly-found love, he said : 

“ It was that first meeting at the school-chapel 
that put thoughts into my head that I could 
never get away from.” 

“ May I ask what was the particular circum- 
stance that arrested your attention ? ” 

“Well,” said Tom, “in the first place. Pro- 
fessor Graves was so earnest, and his voice 
sounded so deep, as if the thoughts came from 
awa}’’ below everything else, that I could not 
help thinking that he meant it all ; and then 
Helen I wh}-, Mr. Ried, I was never so startled 
in all my life. I thought that she had given up 
her notion of being a Christian, then to hear her 
oay those words I It surprised me so I I could 


144 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

never find any place to settle down until I found 
out the secret of it all.” 

As for Helen herself, that Sabbath was a day 
of exaltation. She seemed to be living in a 
world above this; and she thought that she 
could never again be troubled by the vexations 
of every-day living. What did all these petty 
troubles amount to, anyway ? What were they 
when compared with the glory of the over 
shadowing presence of Christ? Why should 
one walking through life with a hand held fast 
in the Saviour’s grasp, mind the pebbles in the 
path ? For the time at least she had risen above 
the mists of doubt, and was dwelling in the 
purer atmosphere of perfect trust. Would it 
last, or would the realities of Monday bring her 
back to the old level where the battle was going 
on ? True, she wanted a part in the warfare. 
She really meant always to be found where the 
battle was the fiercest ; but it was the warfare 
outside of which she was dreaming ; she fancied 
that for herself the victory was won, nor thought 
of the wild conflict yet to come. She would 
fight against sin in the world, and help on the 
day of Christ’s triumph. 


And Peter, 


145 


When Mr. Ried said, just at the close of the 
Bervice : “Now let us in a few words of silent 
prayer present the desire of our hearts to the 
Father, that which we most earnestly long for, 
remembering that the promise is unto us as we 
abide in Christ, and as his words abide in us. 
Shall we ask now ? ” 

Helen, bowing her head, lifted up her heart in 
this wise : “ Dear Saviour, I would live to do 
some work for thee. Hear now my prayer and 
accept the service I would offer.” 

She carried home with her the same conscious- 
ness of having gained a higher ground than she 
had ever trod before. Mr. Ried’s words of 
warning as to how they might look for answers 
to their requests fell unheeded upon her ear, or 
at least she failed to comprehend him, and long 
alter the words came to her as a ray of light in 
the darkness. 

And Tom I What had been his petition ? 
With humility he prayed: “ Dear Saviour, help 
me to overcome my faults and make me fit to be 
a minister. And oh 1 I want most of all to have 
father and mother know of thy love.” 

While Helen had vague notions of doing some 


146 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

great work for Christ, Tom had asked for 
something specific. He went out of himself and 
sought for others the gift of God’s love. He had 
not reached that point of joyful exaltation upon 
which Helen stood, but his feet were firmly 
fixed upon the rock, and he was less likely to be 
disturbed by the jostlings of the outside affairs. 
Tom was quick tempered and sarcastic, and he 
realized that he had before him a hard fight if 
he would overcome these besetting sins. Hence 
his prayer for help. 

The answer to Helen’s prayer was not to be 
long delayed; already the messenger to fulfill 
the request was casting its shadow over that 
household, though in the hush of the Sabbath 
none felt it ; it was in the gray twilight of the 
morning that the first chill of the darkening 
presence was felt. 

A hurried step in the hall awoke Helen ; then 
she heard her motlier say : “ Tom, Tom, you 
must go quickly for Dr. Vananden I Your 
father has a fit of some sort ; be quick.” 

Before Mrs. Betsou had finished speaking, 
Tom was hurriedly dressing, saying, “ Yes, 
mother,” and then a tap at Helen’s door : 


And Peter, 


147 


“ Yes, mother, I hear, and I’m coming.” 

That was the beginning; all that day and 
through days and nights that followed, they 
watched beside the husband and father ; Dr. 
Vananden had looked grave from the first. 

“ Overworked,” he said ; “ this must have been 
coming on for some months ; how has he seemed 
of late?” 

And then Mrs. Betson remembered symptoms 
of failing health ; in themselves so slight that 
they had passed unnoticed ; how strange it 
seemed to them all now that they had allowed 
them to pass so I So imminent was the danger, 
and so fearful were they that every hour might 
be the last, that neither Helen nor Tom thought 
of going to school, for several days at least, and 
when Mr. Betson rallied slightly, so that the 
doctor said he might linger for a long time, but 
gave them no encouragement as to recovery, 
then the subject of school came up. 

It was Helen’s last year with Professor Graves, 
and she was looking forward to Vassal: or Hol- 
yoke; but of course she could not go away from 
home at present; and Tom — poor Tom — his 
way seemed hedged right across I It had all 


148 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

along been his father’s intention to take Tom 
into business with himself; and this had quite 
suited Tom, until of late he had come to hope 
that he might be permitted to serve the Lord by 
publicly ministering in his name, and onlj the 
evening before he had spoken to his father about 
going to college ; Mr. Betson was surprised, and 
only said : 

“ Well, Tom, this is quite a new thought. I 
must consider it ; it would suit me better to see 
you a thorough-going business man ; certainly 
that rather than a third-rate lawyer or minister ; 
but we’ll think about it.” 

So Tom had slept that night with a hopeful 
heart; he was almost sure what the decision 
would be. But next morning changed all that, 
and when Tom came to think of the matter 
again, he saw how impossible going to school 
would be, at least for a long time. Mr. Betson 
was not a poor man ; doubtless he could well 
have afforded to send both Tom and Helen away 
to school, for a full collegiate course ; but they 
both felt that while there was the slightest hope 
that he might rally sufficiently to decide for 
them, they could not urge their mother to make 


And Peter, 


149 


such an important move ; even if that question 
could have been decided, how could they leave 
their mother with the weight of care that rested 
upon her ? 

“ No,” said Tom, talking it over with Helen 
for the fortieth time, “ there is no use in think- 
ing about it, not for me at least ; it may be a 
little different with you ; father had never made 
any definite plans for you, and it would not be 
contrary to any expressed wish of his if you 
were to go to Vassar to-morrow.” 

“ I know,” said Helen ; “ and more than that, 
I am sure that he meant to have me go ; you 
know what he said to Professor Graves about 
my Latin?” 

“ Yes,” and Tom sighed over his own dis- 
appointment ; they were walking home from 
church, one August Sabbath, when this talk 
took place of which I have given the conclusion. 
Just here there was a quick step behind them, 
then alongside, and Mr. Ried’s voice : 

“ Glad to see you both out. I conclude that 
your father is no worse to-day ? ” 

It was Helen who answered: “No, sir, 
mother thought him a very little stronger this 


150 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


morning, and he spoke quite distinctly to me 
when I carried him Ins breakfast. But then,” 
she added, sadly, “ Dr. Vananden says that he is 
liable to have another attack like the first, at 
any time.” 

“Yes,” returned the pastor, “and that makes 
it the more imperative that we relax not our 
efforts to draw him within the fold. Your 
mother told me, yesterday, that she had learned 
to pray while watching by your father’s bedside. 
With so many of you reaching out for God’s 
blessing, he cannot fail of being drawn into the 
fold, if only you are faithful.” 

They were at the gate now, and their pastor 
only added : “ Be of good cheer ; remember the 
promises are sure, and they are yours,'*'* 

But Helen could not remember any that seemed 
to help her ; she was passing through a dark val- 
ley ; these summer days, in which she had ex- 
pected to be making her preparations for a year 
away at school, had been spent so differently ; 
“ just wasted,” she would sometimes say to her- 
self; if she could have done a share of the 
nursing, but they had been forced to employ a 
professional nurse who shared the task with her 


And Peter. 


151 


mother, so that it was only now and then a little 
service that Helen was permitted to do ; and she 
grew weary of the long waiting that seemed so 
purposeless ; not that it was an idle waiting, her 
days were filled up with many distasteful duties, 
duties which her mother had heretofore taken 
upon herself, but which now fell upon Helen ; 
every young girl who has been accustomed to 
take a share of the work of housekeeping will 
understand just the little vexing things that so 
tried Helen Betson during these days ; and yet 
it is these same little things that make up much 
of the comfort of home, and had it not been for 
Helen’s faithful performance of these same hated 
duties, Tom and the burdened mother must 
have missed many comforts. Helen asked in 
sincerity for some work for Christ, but her ideas 
of the sort of service she was to render were 
certainly quite different from the reality ; hence 
her slowness in finding out that this was really 
work set to her by the Master ; and was as much 
a Christian service as was Lydia Elmer’s work 
at the Harley Mission, or Flora Niles’ teaching 
in the Plome Sunday-school. It seemed to her 
that all these months she had done nothing! 


It52 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

Her heart was heavy with reflection ; she bad 
done her work pa-tiently and well, but she had 
not yet learned that the most acceptable service 
is the unquestionable service ; and while she 
was outwardl}^ quiet, inwardly she rebelled at 
the circumstances that closed about her. 

So that while Tom rejoiced that a part at least 
of his prayer was answered, when his mother 
found her way to the cross, Helen saw as yet no 
answer to her own desire, which she had put 
into form on that Sabbath. Strange how she 
could not see how she served in patient waiting ! 

It was a trying day, that Thursday in the lat- 
ter part of August; Mrs. Betson was busy all 
the morning in the invalid’s room ; the servant 
had gone to a picnic, so that an unusual amount 
of work fell to Helen’s lot ; there was no end to 
the breakfast dishes ; the fire went out ; the 
milk for the custard curdled in the sauce-pan ; 
Tom had one of his old teasing fits on and poked 
around in Helen’s way, saying the most vexing 
things, upsetting the pie he tried to take from 
the oven ; spattering water over the freshly- 
ironed clothes on the rack, all the while keeping 
up a laughing commentary upon things in gen- 


And Peter, 


153 


eral, and especially npon Helen’s “ uncomfort- 
ableness.” 

Tom did not see Dr. Vananden’s grave face 
that morning as he came from the room np-stairs, 
but Helen caught the look of pity and sympathy 
as she met him in the hall, and understood him 
wlien he said, with his hand resting upon her 
shoulder : 

“Dear child I we may not question.” 

Then it was true ? Her father would never 
get well again I Tom did not seem to realize 
this ; and that morning his unusually merry 
mood jarred upon Helen, but she could not teU. 
him, so she kept on through the day with the 
grave face and sad heart which Tom was trying 
to brighten. It was of no use, and finally he 
went off and left her to her miserable self. She 
knew she had “ questioned ” all along ; that she 
questioned still. She had so wanted to be active 
in Christ’s service ! Why was this denied? 

For several weeks she had been accustomed 
to sit with her father for a couple of hours in 
the afternoon, while the nurse went out for an 
airing, and Mrs. Betson took her rest on the 
couch within call. Sometimes she read to him ; 


154 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


at first he wanted to hear the daily paper, but 
one day the paper could not be found. To 
Helen’s “ I’m so sorry ! you will miss your read- 
ing,” Mr. Betson replied : 

“ Why, Helen, have we nothing else to read ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, plenty ; I only thought that you 
cared most for the paper.” 

“ Really, I care the least for that ; suppose 
you begin with the New Testament, and read a 
chapter every day.” 

So Helen ministered unto her father in holy 
things — all unconsciously giving to the words 
she read a pathos and a meaning that eomehow 
found the way to the heart of the listener. First 
he was interested in the story, for it must be 
confessed that he was strangely ignorant of the 
beautiful details of the history of that “ wonder- 
ful life.” 

After a few days he said, as Helen closed the 
book at the end of the chapter, “ Go on.” And 
so she read on, chapter after chapter. Some- 
times she heard murmured comments, as “ won- 
derful ; ” “ can this be so ? ” This afternoon she 
came to Mark 16. She read ; 

“ And he saith unto them, Be not affrighted ; 


And Peter. 


155 


ye seek Jesus of Nazareth, which was crucided; 
he is risen ; he is not here ; behold the place 
where they laid him. 

“Buc go your way. Tell his disciples and 
Peter that he goeth before you into Galilee; 
there shall ye see him, as he said unto you.” 

“ And Peter I ” This was Mr. Betson’s 
comment. Again he repeated the word, “ And 
Peter That was all. Helen finished the 
chapter, and turning to look at her father saw 
that he seemed to be sleeping. Laying down 
her book she sat watching — and praying; for- 
getting self and her desire to be the instrument 
whom God should honor, she was never nearer 
being thus honored. Once or twice the sick 
man’s lips moved, and his waiting daughter 
caught the words, “ And Peter ; ” then again, 
‘‘ But Peter denied him I ” 

I do not know that the pastor had Helen 
Betson in his thoughts that evening, but I am 
sure there is one who had ; and who prompted 
the thoughts which were presented. 

She came out of a sad reverie to hear him — 
Mr. Ried — say : 

“ It may not be just what you asked, or sought, 


156 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

or planned, but it must be the best for you be- 
cause God has put it into your life, and he makes 
no mistakes. Will you refuse the patient toil 
he asks because he hath denied your choice ? 
Are you sure that ^’our chosen task might not 
have proved too great for your strength ? Ma}' 
it not be that the discipline of this strange, un- 
sought work is but a preparation for some greater 
toil, even your own choice, when you shall have 
grown to its height? And to you who have 
been praying for something very near your heart, 
and who see as yet no signs of an answer, let 
me say. Look carefully over God’s dealings, 
review the path in which you have been led, 
and see if more has not been given than has 
been denied. After all, would you drop out of 
your life that which has been given you to do 
or enjoy, just for the chance to try your own 
choice ? ” 

Would she? Would Helen give up the 
memory of those afternoon readings, and the 
thrill of joy she felt at her father’s evidently 
growing interest in them, for any plan of her 
own ? And the thought that took hold of her 
with a firmer grasp was this, that “ God makes 


And Peter, 


157 


no mistakes ” — not that she had ever doubted 
God’s all-wise power and knowledge. She 
knew it all before ; now ^hefelt it. 

Tom had a message for his pastor that even- 
ing. 

“ Father wished me to ask you to call a few 
minutes on the way home, if convenient,” he 
said, after the meeting closed. 

“Certainly I will, with pleasure. Is your 
father worse ? ” 

“ I think not ; but he seemed anxious to see 
you to-night,” said Tom. 

Mr. Ried was a little surprised at the request, 
for, though he had called frequently during Mr. 
Betson’s illness, it was not often that the sick 
man was inclined to receive him. To-night he 
was welcomed warmly by both the invalid and 
his wife.. 

“ I hope we have not troubled you very much,” 
said Mrs. Betson ; “ but my husband was so very 
anxious about it, that I ventured to send for 
you.” 

“I wanted to see you,” said Mr. Betson, “and 
to-morrow might be too late. Twenty-five 
years ago I set out to follow Christ. Like Peter, 


158 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


I promised to follow whithersoever he should 
lead ; then, like Peter, I denied my Lord I 
And I have been denying him all these years so 
emphatically that none of you have known that 
I once professed to be his disciple I But this 
afternoon this dear child read to me of the resur- 
rection of Christ ; and as she read, ‘ Go, tell his 
disciples and Peter,’ it came to me forcibly that 
Peter had a special message sent to him ; then 
it seemed to me as if this little girl was the mes- 
senger sent to tell me that my Lord had risen, 
and that I may be forgiven too.” 

He spoke slowly and with difficulty, he was 
«o weak and exhausted. But after resting a lit- 
tle he continued : 

“ I sent for you, to-night, to ask you to estab- 
lish an altar unto the Lord in this household. I 
think that with Tom’s help it can be kept up.’' 

He looked inquiringly at Tom, who seemed 
surprised at the proposition, but he answered, 
promptly ; 

« We’ll try.” 

“Yes,” continued Mr. Betson, “ I thought so.’' 
After a pause he added ; “ Perhaps I am wrong, 
but I want to keep Tom for the little time I 


And Peter, 


169 


shall stay, and then it may be that he will see 
the way clear to enter upon a course of study 
preparatory to the ministry/^ 

Tom’s heai t gave a great bound. Was it to 
be, after all ? Then, suddenly recalling the first 
part of his father’s last remark in wliich he re- 
ferred to his leaving them as if that event were 
uot far in the future, his heart sank. Had he 
been blind that lie had not seen the shadow 
growing deeper ? All at once something upon 
which he Iiad leaned was torn away, and he felt 
himself growing dizzy with the thought that it 
might be even now very close at hand. 

Mr. Ried’s voice as he led them in that conse- 
crating prayer was solemn and tender, though 
there was something of triumph in it as he 
thanked the Lord that this entire family had 
been led to make this dedication of their all. 

A month later they were all gathered again in 
the same room. Dr. Vananden was there, and 
iwo or three friends and neiglbors. The end 
had come. Mr. Betson had been an honorable 
man, respected and loved by friends and neigh- 
bors. He was kind and generous, ready to help 
any whose need was brought to hLs aotica ; yet 


160 Echoing and Re-echotng. 

in his last days he counted his life a failure, 
waste, for he had lived without Christ. Said 
he : “I have lived more in these last few weeks 
than in all the years of my life ; ” and yet these 
had been weeks of weary helplessness, of sIoav 
wasting, and benumbed powers ! 

And Helen, could she fail to understand the 
answer ? As to what should come next, she had 
grown content to he led. 




CHAPTER XIV. 


THE END OF A QUAEBBL. 



not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.” 

’El 

L WAY back in years that were gone there 
had sprung up between certain mem- 
bers of Court Street Church a dissension that 
had seriously disturbed the peace and hindered 
the growth of the church. Like all quarrels, its 
origin was insignificant; indeed, it is doubtful 
if any one of the persons implicated could have 
given an exact account of the cause of the diffi- 
culty ; but, however small the beginning, the 
results were by no means trifling. Once or 
twice the church as a body had taken hold of 

i6i 


162 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

the matter, only to find it too unwieldy to be 
handled by them. It had been handed over to 
the consideration of a committee in the church, 
who had handled it with no tender fingers ; then 
it had been passed over to a committee out- 
side, who, declaring that the scandal ought to 
die, forthwith proceeded to execute their sen- 
tence. But, alas I that which they meant to be 
a death-blow failed to touch the vital point, and 
only served to rouse all the fury of the hunted 
monster. True, there were times when the out- 
ward peace was undisturbed, but all the time there 
were bitter thoughts rankling in some hearts, 
scornful or contemptuous sneers on the lips of 
others, thoughts of revenge growing into shape 
in the minds of those most aggrieved. It was 
not a pleasant state of affairs, nor one that prom- 
ised well for the progress of Christ’s kingdom. 
True, God had not altogether withdrawn from 
them, as we have seen, the Spirit came among 
them, and a few were lead to take up tlie duties 
of a new life ; and the pastor hoped much from 
this addition to the working force of the church. 
But he well knew that with the weight of the 
old trouble resting upon them they could not 


The End of a Quarrel 163 

hope to rise to great heights. During the year 
and a half that he had been with this church he 
had labored earnestly to get the better of this 
trouble ; not to get at the bottom of it ; he well 
knew that an unearthing of all the old horrors 
would only add to the horrid stench that con- 
tinually diffused itself through the church. No, 
indeed, nothing would ever be accomplished by 
“ getting at the bottom of it.” Let the people, 
with one accord, consent to bury the scandal 
alive so deep that it could never see light again I 
That would be the only way to get rid of it ; 
and in all his private talks, and his pulpit talks, 
this had been his counsel ; but when did a peo- 
ple who felt themselves outraged and insulted 
find themselves able to bury the insult and rise 
above the outrage, until first the spirit of love 
had taken up its abode in their hearts ? 

It was with pain that Mr. Ried learned of the 
unforgiving spirit that was cherished, and the 
spite that w^ould now and then manifest itself. 
In an hour of discouragement he said to his 
wife ; 

“ Had T known of the extent of this trouble 
( would never have come here. There is no 


164 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

chance to work amid such continual draw- 
backs.” 

“ But, Ralph,” replied the more hopeful wife, 
“ I am sure you have much to encourage. Look 
at the work of Prof. Graves, and the earnest- 
ness of Mr. Niles. Think of the stand that the 
younger ones who have lately joined us have 
taken — Tom Betson and Will Hunting; and 
how Helen Betson is growing, and Flora, too.” 

“Yes,” returned Mr. Ried, “I do see how 
Flora is ripening ; and it almost makes me sad. 
I fear she is getting ready to go from us.” 

“ I have thought of that,” said Mrs. Ried, 
sadly; “yeti do not know that we should be 
sad at the thought. I know,” she continued, 
“ what you mean ; but I do not think that even 
this trouble in the church is beyond the healing 
power of love ; and, Ralph, I will tell you that 
you may be encouraged to hope for this healing. 
At our little Saturday afternoon meeting we 
have made an agreement to pray specially for 
this very thing, the removal of the accursed 
quarrel from our midst.” 

“ I hope,” said the pastor, smiling, “ that you 
do not mean to pray for the death of any of the 


The End of a QnarreL 


165 


belligerents? You know it has been said that 
the trouble can never be entirely removed so 
long as two or three of the leaders live.” 

“ We do not so limit the power of our Lord,” 
replied Mrs. Ried. 

“ You are right ; and will you thank the dear 
sisters for their lesson of faith ? There is one 
thing which is to me -a cause of gratitude in all 
this — that is, the way in which the church, al- 
most without exception, have stood by their pas- 
tor. I have sometimes hoped that through their 
love for me they might be brought nearer to- 
gether; but that seems to be a presumptuous 
hope, for if their love for a common Lord and 
Master would not in all these years have led 
them to love each other, the regard for the ser- 
vant of that Master would scarcely have such 
influence.” 

Mrs. Ried smiled. 

“But, my dear, why do they love you ? Is it 
not because they see in you a servant of that 
Master? Is it not because they see in you 
something of the likeness of Christ ? And are 
not the qualities which call forth their love those 
which are the fruits of the Spirit ? And if your 


166 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

hope of leading them by a common love to love 
each other were to be realized, would it not, 
after all, be the love winch is of Christ that 
would thus bind their hearts together ? ’’ 

“It seems almost too much to hope,” said Mr. 
Ried ; “ the men with whom the trouble origi- 
nated are men of very decided opinions, and it 
will be hard to convince either of them that they 
have been in the wrong.” 

“ Is anything too hard for God?” asked Mrs. 
Ried. “ I feel as you do — that we cannot look 
for a great ingathering while the church is in 
this state. It seemed as if the blessing that ap- 
peared to be so near us, last spring, was largely 
withheld, because of this thing so displeasing to 
God, which we cherish in our midst. But we 
are stronger now in numbers, and I hope in 
faith ; and I confidently expect to see the salva- 
tion of the Lord coming to this people.” 

The pastor smiled and seemed to gather 
strength from his wife’s hopeful mood ; and per- 
haps, too, he gained a text and an inspiration for 
the next Sabbath morning’s sermon, I think 
that some of those gray -headed men must have 
overlooked that particular passage in their study 


The End of a Quarrel. 


167 


of the word ; and more than one sat uneasily in 
his place during the listening to the strong, 
searching questioning of the pastor and the ten- 
der, loving appeal with which he closed. “By 
this shall men know that ye are my disciples, if 
ye love one another.” This was his theme, and 
he sought to show how this prominent character- 
istic of the Christian should be exemplified ; how 
hatred has no place among the graces ; and how 
Christians ought to seek to be at peace with all 
men, and especially should they be at peace with 
their brethren in the church. And how might 
this be ? There must always be differences of 
opinion ; sometimes disputes would arise ; some- 
times hard, bitter feelings would find a place in 
the hearts even of Christ’s true followers ; some- 
times a positive injury might even be done to a 
brother — how then? Might the injured one 
seek revenge ? Not so ! Rather let him seek to 
overcome evil with good. “ Let it be remem- 
bered,” said the pastor, “ that to seek to retaliate 
is to be ‘ overcome of evil ’ ; that to cherish hard, 
revengeful thoughts is to be ‘ overcome of evil ’ ; 
that to let your lips utter the bitterness thatj'our 
heart feels, to let your hand be staid from the 


168 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

kind act, to refuse the cordial salutation, to 
leave that brother’s name out of your prayers, 
any one, or all of these, is to be ‘ overcome of 
evil.’ How shall we overcome evil with good ? 
Ah ! the heart overflowing with love needs not to 
be told this. Does thine enemy hunger ? Does he 
thirst ? — supply his wants. It may be that his soul 
is hungering and thirsting after this love which 
you withhold. It may be that he would meet 
you more than half-way ; but if not, your duty 
remains the same ; if 3 "Ou would prove your dis- 
cipleship ; if you would have the reward prom- 
ised to him that overcometh ; if you would lighten 
your heart of a heavy burden, and if j^ou would 
seek the prosperity of our beloved church, win 
souls for Christ’s kingdom. Then let it become 
your first endeavor to overcome evil with good. 
Remember that the first duty is to be reconciled 
to thy brother, and if 3 ^our heart is filled with 
the love of Christ the reconciliation will be easy. 
But does any one ask, ‘ Shall a man humble 
himself to seek to be reconciled to one who, 
having injured him, yet desires not to be 
reconciled, who would spurn his advances ? * 
My dear friends, the command is the same ; and 


The End of a Quarrel. 


169 


remember that he that humble th himself in the 
sight of the Lord shall be lifted up. ‘ Beloved, 
let us love one another ; for love is of God.’ ” 

As the brief, earnest prayer, following the ser- 
mon ended, and before Mr. Kied had time to 
announce the closing hymn, a slight stir arrested 
his attention as well as that of the congregation. 
Slowly an old man rose, and all waited to hear 
what Deacon Barnard had to say. His voice 
trembled and his frame shook as though he were 
palsied : 

“My dear brethren and sisters,” he said, 
“ there is no time like the present, and I want to 
say a few words now, if you. will bear with me. 
In days past I have been sorely hurt. My pa- 
tience has been tried sometimes, my counsels 
have been rejected, and I have been jealous of 
the rights of others as well as my own; but 
from this time I put all behind me and under 
my feet. There is at this moment no ill-feeling 
toward any one in the church or out. All that 
has ever been done or said through all our long- 
continued trouble I am going to recall no more. 
And now I would crave the forgiveness of you 
all. There is only love in my heart. The love 


170 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

of Christ has, I trust, come in greater fullness 
than ever before, and driven out all strife and 
envying. Not even for the wrongs of others 
have I any resentment. I am an old man — I 
can not expect to stay here much longer ; and I 
would hope to see this church prosperous and 
united again before I go. Dear brethren and 
sisters, let us put behind us all bitterness ; let 
all the old hardness be swallowed up in love. I 
acknowledge that I have been hard and unfor- 
giving. I have nursed my wrongs — some of 
them, no doubt, have been fancied wrongs, and 
the real ones have been magnified — but to-day 
they all sink into insignificance, swallowed up 
in the love, the brightness and glory of which 
removes all darkness. Oh 1 my friends, if it be 
true that here we ‘ see through a glass darkly,’ 
and the glimpse we have of the glory of our 
Saviour’s love is so wondrous, so full of blessed- 
ness, what will be the realit}^ when we come to 
know of the fullness of his love ? Dear brethren 
and sisters, in all sincerity and humility I ask 
your forgiveness, and I would extend the hand 
of charity— -the token of good will — to alL 


The End of a Quarrel, 


i71 


Let us love one another, that God may dwell in 
us and his love be perfected in us.” 

The old man spoke slowly, his voice trembling 
with age and choked with feeling. There were 
many tearful eyes in the congregation, and stern 
faces softened ; the silence that fell upon them 
as Deacon Barnard sat down was broken by Pro- 
fessor Graves. 

“ Let us pray,” he said ; and then he led them 
in a short, earnest appeal to the throne of grace, 
asking that the spirit of love that had now 
appeared in their midst might not depart from 
them, but abide with them, inclining their hearts 
to still further concessions, and uniting them in 
every good work and holy endeavor. 

As they went out from that morning’s service 
there were many handshakings and murmured 
words of reconciliation ; many pressed forward to 
grasp the hand of the old deacon, who had a 
word of love for each. Meeting Mr. Cramer at 
the door, he said ; 

“ My brother, we have been in sympathy in 
this long trouble ; are we in sympathy now ? ” 

Mr. Cramer did not reply very promptly, and 


172 Echoing <md Re-Echoing, 

His hesitancy was rightly interpreted as a dis- 
sent. 

“Well,” said the old man, “I trust that God 
will lead us all to a sense of our want. Bro. 
Cramer, can you carry your hatred into the other 
world? Oh, let the love of Jesus in, and your 
ill-will can not stay I ” 

This was the one theme — the love of Christ ! 
The dear old man had no other thought. “ All 
is swallowed up in his love.” He repeated 
these words again and again, 

Mr. Bates was unusually quiet that Sabbath 
afternoon. While his wife and the children 
talked over the surprising events of the morning 
he was silent. His dinner was almost untasted ; 
he went early to the barn to look after the even- 
ing chores. Coming in he said to his son : 

“ I have harnessed the horse, and you may 
drive down to church this evening ; I am going 
to walk down early ; I want to see the deacon 
for a few moments.” 

At the deacon’s it was a word and a prayer. 
Then Mr. Bates went on to Mr. Cramer’s. Here 
the strong man faltered. These two had, per- 
haps, been the most obstinate ones of all con- 


The End of a Quarrel. 


173 


corned in the difficulty. How would Mr. Cramer 
receive his advances? He had witnessed the 
interview between the deacon and that gentle- 
man, and saw that the heart of the other was 
not softened. But he had left the old man 
praying for them ; and though he trembled and 
every nerve quivered, he went in. 

“ I have come to shake hands,” he said. Bro. 
Cramer, will you give me your hand in forgive- 
ness and Christian love ? ” 

Just as the organist softly played the invitation 
to the evening service a thrill of surprise equal 
to that of the morning ran through the congre- 
gation. Mr. Bates and Mr. Cramer entered the 
audience room together and took their seats in 
Deacon Palmer’s pew. What a song of thanks- 
giving went up from the heart of the pastor as 
in this act he read the end of their sad difficulty I 
And the choir proved equal to the occasion ; and 
such a glad hosanna as rang out that evening 
was not often heard in Court Street Church ! 
There was a ring of gladness in all the service of 
the evening. There was a glow upon the face 
of more than one that was new and cheering. 

At the close of the service, while the last 


174 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

hymn was being sung, Dr. Vananden entered at 
the rear door, and whispered to Mr. Ried, for a 
moment only. The gladness faded out of the 
pastor’s face, only to return as he listened to the 
Doctor’s communication. As the hymn was end- 
ed Dr. Vananden stepped forward and said : 

“ Dear friends, I have sad news for you ; sad, 
yet not unmixed with joy. Our dear old friend. 
Deacon Barnard, has gone home. Not an hour 
since I was summoned to his bedside. He was 
stricken down suddenly, but not surprised. 
Those of you who heard him this morning need 
not to be told of his readiness to obey tlie call. 
He left a tender, loving farewell for you all. 
‘ Tell them,’ he said, ‘ that I die happier for the 
words I said this morning; that I would only 
emphasize them as my parting message.’ When 
almost gone we caught the whisper, ‘ To him that 
overcometh ; and again, ‘The love of Christ.’ 
Dear friends, let us not mourn. Our old friend’s 
work was done ; this morning’s work was the 
crowning of his long life. Now the Master has 
called him to be where there is fullness of love. 
Already he knows what that fullness is.” 



CHAPTER XV. 


SUEPEISES. 


‘‘ Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth, 
shall ye not know it. I will even make a way in tho wilder- 
ness and rivers in the desert.” 



LWAY back among the hills was heard 
the re-echoing of that sermon upon for- 
giveness. Full of the spirit of love which had 
been revived in his own heart Robert Niles went 
out to his little Sunday-school in the Clarkson 
neighborhood. From the first one or two fami- 
lies stood aloof. Three years ago, when the 
little country school-house where the Sunday- 
school was held was built, Mr. Tyler, one of the 
building committee, wanted the desks to face 
the south, and Mr. Davis thought they ought to 
17 *; 


i76 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

face the west. Both felt that the interests of a 
nation hung upon the question. Mr. Tyler, 
having carried his point his children sat with 
their faces turned toward the tropics ; while the 
children of Mr. Davis trudged two miles in an- 
other direction, not that they might drink in the 
glories of the western sky, but that their father 
might thus show his independent spirit I As on 
week days so on the Sabbath they were forbid- 
den to set foot within the walls of the new 
school-house. 

Thinking of the neighborhood quarrel, and of 
the children debarred from all religious privi- 
leges by the obstinacy of the parents, and with 
sadness remembering the gray-haired fathers 
living without God, Robert Niles determined to 
make an effort to bring about a change. It 
seemed a great undertaking ; and the greatest 
trouble was to find a place to begin ; at least 
that was the first thought. Then he quickly 
remembered that the place of prayer must be 
the beginning of the Christian’s undertakings if 
they would be successful. To seek in the shadow 
of the cross the wisdom and the strength needed, 
to plead for the softening influences of the Spirit 


Surprhei, 


177 


that old antipathies might be swept away and 
the hearts prepared for the entrance of better 
thoughts and kinder feelings, was the first step ; 
then how God smoothed the way I 

Mr. Davis had been away from home for a 
week. His card, stating the time of his return, 
miscarried, and he arrived in town late in the 
afternoon, to find no one to meet him. Toe 
late for the stage, and being unwilling to incur 
the expense of a private conveyance, he started 
to walk the three miles through the snow. It 
certainly was not a pleasant prospect, and he 
grumbled some, keeping a lookout for passing 
sleighs. 

“ Can you attend to that business of Baker’s 
this afternoon ? ” asked Mr. Smith, that day, 
just before dinner, addressing Mr. Niles. 

“ I suppose I could,” was the reply, “ though 
I would rather not. I was intending tn ride out 
of town, and if I do, I shall have no spare time.” 

Mr. Smith looked surprised and the least bit 
annoyed. Robert Niles was not wont to set 
aside business for the sake of rides out of town. 
And the senior partner had a suspicion that 


178 Echoing and Re-echoing* 

upon this fact the interests of the firm were 
hinged. 

“ I had not forgotten Mr. Baker,” said Robert ; 
‘‘ but it is a matter that does not demand im- 
mediate attention.” 

“ And your ride out of town ? ” queried Mr. 
Smith, in a slightly bantering tone. 

Robert smiled. 

“ Well, that might be postponed ; but I have 
an impression that it ought not to be. And yet 
I must confess that I have no very definite ob- 
ject or point in view.” 

At this last frank admission Mr. Smith was 
still more surprised. It was not like his partner 
to have no definite plans. What had come over 
him ? 

Robert laughed out at the look of disapproval 
that spread over his friend’s face. 

“ I suppose,” he said, “ you think I am talking 
like a silly boy. I mean this ; I have an object 
and a point to gain, and someway I have an im- 
pression that my contemplated drive this after- 
noon may further that plan ; and so I thought 
to let Mr. Baker wait.” 

“ Oh ; well, as for Baker, he can wait, of 


Surprises, 


179 


course. He said any time this week. But ” 

Mr. Smith hesitated, and Mr. Niles took up 
the unfinished sentence : 

“ ‘ Business first I ’ I know our motto ; and I 
know, too, that you are laughing at me for fol- 
lowing my ‘ impressions.’ And you and I will 
hardly be likely to agree as to the source of 
what we sometimes call a ‘presentiment.’ But 
when we have sought for direction, it seems to 
me that we have the right to expect it.” 

Mr. Smith was a Christian, I suppose. He 
was a church member ; he always sat dignified 
and stately at the head of his family pew, bow- 
ing reverently in prayer, and sometimes joining 
in the hymns; giving liberally, and frequently 
attending the weekly prayer-meeting. He was 
honest and just, in his own home cordial and 
hospitable ; but of the warm, loving, sympathetic 
Christianity that prompted Robert Niles to so 
many activities, that led him out upon the bleak 
hill-sides and filled his whole life with a radiant 
kindness that warmed others and inspired them 
to reach out and seek to draw others still within 
the circle of life and joy — of this sort of Chris- 
tianity Mr. Smith knew little. Hence it was that 


180 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

he could not understand his junior partner. 
However, not understanding him he trusted him, 
both as to integrity and judgment, and seldom 
criticised his movements; so the young man 
went in and out, strengthening this one in new 
and nobler purposes, helping that one to sur- 
mount some obstacle in the way of a purer life, 
stretching out a hand to save the sinking, and 
speaking words of encouragement to the weary 
ones who were striving to climb upward. And 
this afternoon Mr. Smith said nothing further, 
only smiled upon his more enthusiastic friend, 
who went his waj^ sure of some work to do. 

Meantime Mr. Davis was wearily climbing the 
hill. Strange that upon a road so frequented 
there should be no one going that way with 
whom he might catch a ride, as is the custom of 
the country people. But presently his ear caught 
the welcome sound of sleigh-bells, and in a mo- 
ment looking back he saw coming around the 
. curve a light sleigh with a single occupant. 
Drawing up as he was passing, the driver said, 
in cheery tones : 

“ Ah, Mr. Davis, will you take a seat here ? 
There is plenty of room.” 


Surprises, 


181 


Any other time Mr. Davis would have been 
alow to accept the offer. He was accustomed to 
class the young man, whom he only knew as 
the Sabbath-school superintendent, among the 
“ school-house folks,” and he held no inter- 
course with them. But to-night he was too 
nearly exhausted to decline the offered relief ; 
so, with a scarcely audible “Thank you,” he 
took the vacant place. 

It was astonishing how the talk ran on. Mr. 
Davis had just come from that part of the West 
which Robert had made his home for three or 
four years, and this gave them a topic to start off 
with. The young man succeeded in making 
himself so agreeable that Mr. Davis quite thawed 
out before they reached the hill-top, and to his 
own as well as Mr. Niles’ surprise he said : 

“ You’ll come in and warm up a little before 
you take the ridge side ? It’s blowing pretty 
stiff up there.” 

Robert was quite ready to accept the invita- 
tion, which he had been working for ; not that 
he would not have been kind and agreeable had 
there been no point to be gained — he was al- 
ways that. But doubtless his eagerness to ad- 


182 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

vance the cause he had undertaken gave an 
added charm to his manner and an increased 
force to his conversation. 

“Thanks. I will stop a few moments. No, 
don’t call any one ; I’ll just blanket the horse 
and let him stand here.” 

As he reached the door it occurred to Mr. 
Niles that the home-coming of the head of the 
household, after a week’s absence, might be 
marred by the presence of a stranger ; but it was 
too late to act upon that reflection, and so warm 
was the greeting which he received from the 
lady who met them at the door, that he felt quite 
at ease, and the thought of being an intruder 
was quite banished. Mr. Davis was in high 
spirits and rollicked about the house like a 
school-boy. 

“ Say, wife ! ” he called out, “ have you any- 
thing for supper ? I mean to keep this gentle- 
man ; so, if you are short, you’d better set Lolly 
to work. Give us a feast ; now there’s a beauty.” 

The gentle-faced little woman smiled as she 
replied : 

“There’s plenty already. Certainly, I sup- 


SurpriiSB, 


183 


posed your friend would take tea with us, and I 
sent John to take his horse to the stable.” 

Robert began his protest. This was more 
than he looked for, this being taken right into 
the heart of the family he had dreaded to ap- 
proach. 

“ Not a word, now I ” said the host. “ You 
see, my wife has taken possession of you. It 
isn’t often that we have any church people 
among us ; so she means to make the most of the 
honor,” and he laughed good-naturedl}^ tossing 
one of the children to the ceiling, and then saying : 
“ What has this good-for-nothing been doing 
since I went away ? ” 

The house was full of children, from the little 
one in the father’s arms up to the half-grown 
girl and the boy who was almost a man, and it 
was not difficult for Mr. Niles to fall into a sort 
of playful, confidential talk with one of the little 
girls, a talk that naturally drifted to the Sunday 
school. 

“ I want to go awful bad,” she said, “ but pa 
won’t let us.” 

But pa did let them, fairly surprised into a 
consent. This much gained, how to win the 


184 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

father himself became the next question, and it 
was one not easy of solution. Indeed, the ready 
consent which had just been given in regard to 
the children had almost taken away the visitor’s 
breath, and he said to himself: “much being 
gained, you ought to be willing to wait for the 
rest.” But something prompted him to make 
one effort, and as he was leaving he said : 

“Mr. Davis, I have made you quite a visit. 
Now, will 3 ^ou return it next Sabbath afternoon ? 
After the school session we are to have a meet- 
ing for the older people who do not come to the 
Sunday-school. Will you be there ? ” holding 
out his hand to say good-night as he asked the 
last question. 

Mr. Davis hesitated ; he seemed to be search- 
ing for words in which to dress his refusal. 

“ Well,” he said, “ I ain’t one of that sort. I 
— well, you see — I — ” He wasn’t getting on 
very well, and he knew it, too, and the knowl- 
edge that he was blundering confused him still 
more. Finally he blurted out: “Well, I s’pose 
you know that I hate some of them folks up 
there ? I hain’t never set foot inside that school- 
house.” 


t^rprises. 


185 


“Well, my friend,” interrupted Robert, pleas- 
antly, “ wouldn’t this be a good occasion for the 
lirst time ? You see you would be my invited 
guest for the day — or rather I should say the 
Lord's, for we hope for his presence. Will yovi 
come ? ” 

Now you remember, when Peter was impris- 
oned, and prayer was made without ceasing for 
him, how that, instead of being on the lookout 
for his coming, his brethren could not believe 
Rhoda when she told them that he for whom they 
were even then praying stood at the gate. Their 
lack of faith always seemed strange, and yet is it 
not the way we pray ? We ask, we plead often- 
times, we even agonize before God, and after 
all we are overwhelmed with surprise when God 
answers us, giving us just what we most desired. 
And now, when in reply to the earnestly put 
question Mr. Davis said with a laugh, “ Well, I 
s’pose I ma}^ as well say Til be there, for I see 
by your eye that you don’t mean to let me off 
without a promise.” Robert Niles could scarcely 
believe his ow7i sense of hearing. I am sure he 
would not have believed Rhoda ! 

After he had driven away, Mr. Davis went out 


186 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

to look after things, and while feeding his horse 
he began to think it all over. “ What a fool I 
am. Here I’ve been and promised I Won’t 
Tyler and his set make a stir ? I don’t see what 
it is about the fellow, but I declare I believe he 
could wind me round his little finger like a strip 
of paper. And wasn’t that queer that he told 
about old Dea. Barnard ? The Deacon was dread- 
fully set in his way. And to think that Bates 
and Cramer have made up ! I remember when 
that quarrel started ; it was when I was getting 
out that lumber for Cramer’s house. Cramer’s 
an awful set man, too. I wonder if Tyler would 
meet me half-way ? Not he ; he is as stiff as a 
mule. Well, I’ll go to the meeting, as I prom- 
ised ; but it will be the last. Suppose any of 
the Tyler set should speak to me ? But they 
won’t ; they hate me as bad as I hate them ; 
only if they should happen to speak, and Mr. 
Niles should be standing by, I would feel queer 
to turn my back to them. I wonder if it is true 
what the old man said, when he was dying, about 
things seeming so little when a man comes to 
die? The fellow has succeeded in making me 


Surprises. 187 

feel awful uncomfortable. I don’t believe I’ll 
go, after all.” 

I can not tell how many times the disturbed 
mind of Mr. Davis traveled over the same 
ground and arrived at the same conclusion. But 
after all, the next Sabbath afternoon found him 
at the school-house. Meantime Mr. Niles had 
made one or two other visits, which were not 
without effect ; and Mr. Davis was surprised, 
not so much at being met by Mr. Tyler with a 
hand outstretched as at the words that trembled 
on his lips. 

“ Mr. Davis,” he said, “ I am glad to see you. 
It is a late acknowledgment, but I will say that 
you were right and we were wrong in the start- 
ing. We could have warmed the room much 
easier and more uniformly by following out your 
ideas. Will you accept the acknowledgment 
and be friends ? ” 

Mr. Davis’ sensations at that moment were 
strange. What could he say, what do, but ac- 
cept the frank acknowledgment, shake hands 
and be friends ? What did it mean? Re would 
never have owned up if he had been convinced 
that he was wrong ! — not a bit of it I — and he 


188 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

was sure it was not like Mr. Tyler to do sOv 
The explanation came later. 

“Will Brother Tyler lead us in prayer?’’ 
asked the leader of the meeting. 

And then Mr. Tyler’s voice was heard in ten- 
der, earnest thanksgiving and pleading. His 
old enemy sat as one in a maze, and as other 
voices took up the petition he grew more and 
more bewildered. Later he rose and said: 

“I would like to say a word. Some things 
that I have heard here to-night have surprised 
me. I find that things have been going on here 
of which I knew nothin’. I don’t want you to 
think that I have any notion of getting religious ; 
but I will say there seems to me to be something 
in a religion that leads a man to say, right out, 
that he has been wrong. You take a man as 
proud as Jack Tyler here, and there must be 
some power in the thing, be it religion or some- 
thing else, that will bring down such a man. 1 
am glad of all that has happened. I must say 
that it is not pleasant to live on such terms with 
your neighbors that you can’t speak to them, and 
are always shutting up their cattle and watching 


8urpriBe9» 


189 


to see where they make a misstep ; so I am glad 
to be friends with you all.” 

A few weeks afterward Mr. Davis came again 
into the little meeting. This time he said, with 
trembling voice : 

“ The first time I came among you I said that 
I was glad to be at peace with you all ; but I 
find that is not enough — I need to be at peace 
with God. I am trying to make my peace with 
an offended Lord. Pray for me.” 

Robert Niles was learning to expect answers to 
his prayers. 




CHAPTER XVI. 

CALLED EARLY. 

“ I shall be satisfied when I awake with thy likeness.” 



I O W God was preparing the way for the 
manifestation of his power I His peo- 
ple were more prayerful ; with softened hearts 
they recalled the last words of their old friend, 
Deacon Barnard, and were drawn closer together, 
filled with the glowing warmth of that love 
which casts out all doubt, and fits the heart for 
the indwelling of the Holy Ghost. They had a 
growing faith in God’s truth, in his power to do 
for them all that they should ask, and a longing 
desire to see the salvation of the Lord. It seemed 


190 


Called Early* 


191 


as if the preaching of the pastor had not died 
away upon the air, but was still resounding in 
the hearts and lives of his people. 

Would the echoing reach the many hearts that 
were yet closed and deaf to the call of the 
Saviour ? 

Some such question pastor and people were 
asking themselves, coming together often to 
pray and counsel with each other. 

Meantime the newly-awakened spirit of love 
was making a sure progress away back upon the 
hill-side, and every evening in the week the 
little school-house was crowded with an eager, 
interested company. At first Robert Niles and 
his friend Newton Clark led the meetings ; but 
they found that it was indeed God s work. One 
evening, when both were detained, a j^oung man, 
who had been led to Christ through Mr. Niles* 
efforts, proved to have grace for the occasion, 
and thereafter, though tlie people from Court 
Street often went out to join their friends on the 
hill, it was that they might catch something of 
that spirit that was so manifestly present in the 
dim, crowded place. One evening, as they rode 
home, Mr. Ried said : 


192 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

“ I have been thinking how the work prospers 
in all oar mission fields. Prof. Graves told me 
this morning that down there at Harley’s there 
are seven or eight who are desirous of leading a 
different life, and out in the Tanner neighbor- 
hood there is an unusual interest, while the 
work up here is marvelous ; and yet, in the 
home field, we see little fruit. Are we neglect- 
ing things there in our zeal for this outside 
labor?” 

“ I think not,” returned Mr. Niles. “ Excuse 
me, but I think we do see signs of God’s favor, 
and this work on the outskirts may be but the 
skirmishing with the enemy before the great 
battle to be fought out at headquarters. I do 
not think that the influences of the Sabbath be- 
fore last are going to die away without a greater 
blessing than we have yet received.” 

“ The reconciliation of those who had so long 
been enemies is certainly a great blessing, and 
one to be profoundly grateful for ; yet I, too, 
had looked for one to follow of another sort,” 
said the pastor, a little sadly. 

Strange that neither of them thought to con- 


Called Early, 


193 


nect the work upon the hill with the events of 
that to-be-remembered Sabbath ! 

They rode on in silence for a time, a silence 
which was broken by Mr. Ried, who asked with 
a tenderness of tone : 

“ Do you think that Flora is growing weaker? 

“Yes, in body; but her spirit grows strong 
each day. I think she is almost ready to go.” 

Robert’s voice trembled. The sister who w^as 
fading was very dear to them all. They would 
miss the sunny-faced girl who always had a 
bright word for everybody ; the invalid mother 
would miss her ; the brother, to whom she had 
been growing so companionable, would miss her ; 
and of the friends outside the family circle, 
Helen and Tom Betson would miss her perhaps 
more than any one else. She had been Helen’s 
friend and confidant, and since the childhood 
days, when Tom had tucked both the little girls 
closely upon his sled and whirled them down 
street to school, he had taken care of Flora and 
made her almost as much his confidant as he did 
his own sister. 

Upon that Sabbath in June when Helen 
prayed for “some work for Christ,” and Tom 


194 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


asked for a blessing upon their parents, Flora, 
sitting beside Helen, prayed : 

“ Make me more like thyself, dear Saviour. 
May I day by day be growing into thy likeness.” 

That prayer was surely being answered daily. 
Those who live in her presence watched the 
ripening of her character; and, Robert said, the 
spirit grew strong in proportion as the body grew 
weak. 

It was three weeks after Deacon Barnard was 
called home that Flora Niles went to be forever 
with Christ. These were her oft repeated words, 
“To be forever with Christ.” 

They had not thought it would be so soon. 
Dr. Vananden hoped she might live until spring, 
perhaps even longer ; but a sudden cold seemed 
to hasten the end, and the prayer was answered, 
the longing of her soul was “ satisfied,” for she 
had awakened with Hn likeness ! 

It was Thursday afternoon when they turned 
from the little cemetery chapel where they left 
the darling among the flowers and vines. Many 
were the tributes offered to her memory as they 
met at the chapel that evening — tributes offered 
in homely phrase and in well-made speech; 


Called Early, 


195 


tributes true and tender ; but truer and tenderer 
than these was the tribute of tears, while no- 
bler and of more worth than any other were 
those of high resolve and firm purpose to follow 
Him whom she had followed. Said the pastor: 

“ The going out of these two from among us 
so nearly together, one in old age, looking back 
upon a long life of service, and the other in 
youth, just beginning the Christian life, leads us 
to ask. When is there a time that the religion of 
Christ is not just what we need ? The dear old 
father in Israel found it a good thing to have in 
that hour, when the messenger came suddenly 
to call him to meet his God. Can you imagine 
what that call would have been to that old man 
had it found him with all the weight of sin, of 
years of sin, upon him ? Would you wish to be 
one to stand beside the death-bed of a man who 
had lived and was dying in sin ? It has been 
my sad duty to stand by one such and try to 
present the truths of the gospel. May I never 
be called upon to witness another such a death I 
“And, friends, the dear young sister who has 
just gone home found the love of Christ a very 
precious gift. To her the call did not come sud- 


196 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


denly, as to our old friend; but none the less 
did she rejoice that she had made Christ her 
friend. She gave him her young life, doubtless 
thinking to live to serve him here, may be for 
long years, but in accepting her offering it was 
the Master’s will to fit it for his immediate pres- 
ence. As she saw herself surely descending into 
the dark valley do you think she was sorry that 
her soul was safe in the Saviour’s keeping? Oh, 
dear friends, who have not made her Saviour 
your Saviour, will you take the first step to- 
night ? Will you ? ” 

Some were ready to manifest their determina- 
tion ; others carried away thoughts more serious 
than was their wont. 

Mr. Norton Graves put his wife into the sleigh 
and drove home in absolute silence. Not until 
his horse was cared for, the doors fastened for 
the night, the stoves replenished, and he had 
seated himself in his usual place, did he break 
the silence. Looking up he caught his wife’s 
anxious look. With an effort he began : 

“ Clara, ever since that Sabbath when we 
talked of Mr. E-ied’s sermon, and you said you 
were going to begin to obey the command, ‘ Go 


Called Early, 


197 


work ’ — you remember how I laughed at you — 
I have been fighting against a power that is 
mightier than I ; and to-night I have laid down 
my arms. I would have spoken down there, 
only I wanted to tell you first.” 

In an instant Clara Graves was at her hus- 
band’s side I What thanksgivings filled the 
heart of the wife ! She, too, remembered that 
moment of silent prayer. 

When Norton Graves’ voice was first heard in 
prayer a strange thrill ran through the lecture- 
room. The scoffers and unbelievers saw that 
their ranks were broken, and asked. Who shall 
be the next to break away? Norton Graves had 
been one of their most powerful allies, an edu- 
cated, cultivated gentleman, priding himself 
upon his integrity, his high moral purposes, yet 
denying the gospel of Christ. Some one said of 
him in Rachel Elmer’s hearing ; 

•• Norton Graves is an honorable man. He’d 
scorn to do a mean thing.” 

“ Humph ! ” was Miss Elmer’s expressive re- 
sponse. “ Talk about meanness, when a man is 
doing the meanest thing a man can do, denying 
Christ I His whole life is a meanness I ” 


198 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

Never had he seemed to his wife so grand, so 
noble, as when he stood up in the chapel to con- 
fess Christ ; and never had his scoflSng friends 
admired him more. 

“Well, brother, doubly so now,” said the 
Professor, grasping his hand, “God seems to 
know how to take care of his own work, and is 
quite able to raise up workers to fill the places 
of those whom he calls to the new fields.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” asked the other. 

“Just this,” replied the Professor; “ I have 
been thinking for some time of taking up the 
work of a lay evangelist, and to-night it came 
upon me that you and Clara might possibly carry 
on some of the work here that I shall be obliged 
to leave and which seemed to hold me here.” 

As he said “ good-night ” the Professor added ; 
“ I think I'll come out on Saturday. I have 
something to talk over with you.” 

“ All right,” returned Norton, while Clara 
smiled, guessing what was the “ something.” 

With no small measure was the blessin" 
poured out upon this people, whose hearts were 
thus prepared for the descent of the Holy Spirit. 
The faithful preaching, with the honest endeavor 


Called Early, 


199 


on the part of the people to carry into every-day 
life the practical application of the truths pre- 
sented, now brought forth much fruit. 

The pastor himself was taking long strides 
forward, reaching out after those wonderful pos- 
sibilities presented to the believer. He had evi- 
dently entered more fully into that life of end- 
less growth which leads to a development beyond 
our conception. He had learned anew the secret 
of victory. 

“ For whatsoever is born of Godovercometh the 
world ; and this is the victory that overcometh 
the world, even our faith.” 



CHAPTER XVII. 


MRS. MOSHIEB IS DISTURBED. 


“ And Saul yet breathing out threatenings and slaughtei 
against the disciples.” ^ 



^R. and Mrs. Vananden were boarding 
at Mrs. Crosby’s fashionable house, on 
Park Avenue. It was not because the}’’ were 
enamored of that sort of life, but because of Mrs. 
Vananden’s health having necessitated a change. 
They had first spent a year in traveling, and 
then, upon returning, decided to board for a 
time, that tlie invalid might be more free from 
care until her health might be more firmly re- 
established. 

Mrs. Crosby was very particular as lo the 

200 


Mrs, Moshier Disturbed. 


201 


Branding of those whom she received into hei 
family. To be able to put “No. 9, Park Avenue,’ 
upon your cards, was to be assured of your po- 
sition in certain circles. It gave you the entree 
of the lest society; it settled the question oi 
your status, mental, moral and fashionable. All 
this mattered very little to Dr. Vananden. What 
was more to the point, they found here pleasant, 
homelike rooms, good fare, and prompt service, 
with the freedom which his profession demanded. 

Mrs. Vananden found pleasant acquaintances 
and large opportunities. Among the boarders 
was the widow of Col. Le Grand, who, always 
stately in bombazine and folds of sheerest mus- 
lin, patronized the Doctor’s wife, who, all un- 
conscious of the patronage, gave merry, spark- 
ling replies to the measured condescension oJ 
the elder lady. 

Then there was Mrs. Moshier, bright, spark- 
ling, and witty as Saddie Vananden herself, a 
great favorite with the gentlemen, of whom there 
were perhaps a dozen in the house, belonging to 
the various professions ; there were no clerks 
and no sewing girls who found a home with 
Mrs. Crosby. Sometimes Mrs. Vananden smiled 


202 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

within herself at the recollection of her early 
life, and wondered what Mrs. Le Grand would 
say if she knew that the lady whom she called 
“my dear friend, Mrs. Dr. Vananden,” had spent 
busy, hurried days in the kitchen of just such an 
establishment as Mrs. Crosby’s, only a little less 
pretentious I That she had rolled pie-crust that 
would have eclipsed any at the Crosby House in 
whiteness and flakiness I That she had been 
cook, chambermaid and school-girl by turns I 
How Mrs. Le Grand would have borne the 
knowledge that the lady whom she pronounced 
a model of refinement, culture and grace, had 
long ago mastered the art of using the broom and 
duster, and understood the mysteries of the dish- 
pan, Mrs. Vananden often tried to imagine. 

“I am afraid you are sailing under false 
colors,” said the Doctor, one day, laughing. 
“Mrs. Le Grand evidently thinks you a fine 
lady.” 

“And am I not ? ” was the laughing reply. “ 1 
know what you mean. 1 have just ached to see 
the look of incredulity that would spread over 
her face, to be followed by an expression of 
scorn, if she were to hear that my mother kept 


Mrs. Moshier Disturbed. 203 

just such a house as this — only a great deal 
nicer.” 

“Well,” said the Doctor, “if you think it 
would be so interesting, why don’t you tell 
her?” 

“ Just because I never had an opportunity.” 

“ How is that? ” asked the Doctor. 

“Why, just think of it! Fancy Mrs. Le 
Grand allowing the conversation to take a turn 
that would lead by never so circuitous a route to 
such a revelation ! Why, if I had such a bit of 
information to impart, I would have to ask for a 
special interview, and state in set terms that the 
object of the meeting was to lay before her, for 
her august consideration, the fact that I once 
worked for a living ! ” 

The Doctor laughed, saying ; 

“I should like to be there when my wife 
makes a set speech.” 

“ Well,” said the wife, “ I like Mrs. Le Grand, 
but she is very aristocratic, certainly ; and, then, 
I fear she is not in sympathy with the most of 
our people on many subjects. I really do not 
think that she and Mrs. Moshier are exerting 
the best influence upon the young men here. 


204 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

You know about the wine supper she gave last 
Thanksgiving ? ” 

“Yes, I remember.” 

“ Well, there are a number of things, like that, 
which don’t seem quite the thing for a Christian 
woman to do.” 

“ I know,” replied the Doctor ; “ but we must 
remember that Mrs. Le Grand belongs to a gen- 
eration that held very different views from ours 
upon many topics ; and I presume that she is 
perfectly sincere in her Christian profession.” 

“But Mrs. Moshier?” 

“ Judge not.” 

“ Do you know that I think Mrs. Moshier is a 
little afraid of Professor Graves’ keen eyes? 
Since he came here to board, she is certainly 
more cautious in her remarks,” said Mrs. Van- 
anden. After a pause, she continued: “Don’t 
you think the Professor has changed a good 
deai? I never thought him particularly active 
as a Christian worker when we knew him before 
we went South.” 

“ It is true,” replied Dr. Vananden, “ he was 
not ; and I have noticed the change which you 
speak of.” 


Mrs, Moshier Disturbed, 


205 


“ I am glad that he came here. I used to 
dread going to the table when you were away. 
There was so much in the style of conversation 
which was shockingly irreligious; and it does 
seem as if they were just a little afraid of you 
and the Professor.” 

Of these people, whom the Doctor and his wife 
were discussing, Mrs. Le Grand and Mrs. Me 
shier were members of Court Street Church, as 
were one or two of the gentlemen. But it was 
true that they were not in sympathy with the 
pastor and the more spiritually inclined of his 
people. They were free in their criticisms of Mr. 
Hied and his measures. One day, when their 
remarks were unusually severe, little Florette 
Moshier took it upon herself to administer a 
rebuke. 

“ I think it is real impolite of you people to 
talk about Mr. Ried when he is Mrs. Vananden’s 
own cousin I ” 

“ Mrs. Vananden’s cousin I” echoed some one. 

“ Yes, he is ! She told me so, didn’t you? ” 
appealing to the lady herself. 

“Ye;5, I told you so. But, Florette, do you 
think that to be one’s cousin is to be more than 


206 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

to be one’s pastor ? ” said Mrs. Vananden, smiling 
upon the little girl. 

“ Why, I thought so ; but I don’t know. Do 
you mean that, seeing he is my pastor, I may 
love him as well as if he were my cousin ? ” 
asked Florette, while the others were mentally 
making their own application. 

“ I think you ought,” replied the lady. 

Mrs. Moshier’s next remark was made in a 
tone which was a trifle sharper than usual. This 
was all the notice she condescended to take of 
Miss Florette ’s open or Mrs. Vananden’s implied 
reproof. 

At the time of Deacon Barnard’s death, Mrs. 
Moshier was absent from the city. Upon her re- 
turn the fact, with the attendant circumstances, 
was related to her. Her remarks were highly 
characteristic. 

“ Well,” she said, “ I am glad I was away. It 
must have been very disagreeable for the con- 
gregation ; at least, the most of them. I think 
that a person of cultivated mind and manner 
always dreads such scenes.” 

“ I assure you, Mrs. Moshier,” said Professor 
Graves, “ that it was a very delightful scene , 


Mrs, Mozhier Disturbed. 


207 


and the most of us will always be grateful for the 
privilege of being present.” 

“ Oh, no doubt I I believe that you had a 
part in the bit of high comedy. Really, Pro- 
fessor, you must excuse me, but those things do 
seem so much out of place.” 

“ May I ask what things ? ” said the Professor, 
gravely. 

“ Why, you know ; it seemed a breaking in 
upon the good order of the Sabbath services,” 
replied the lady, a trifle embarrassed. 

“ Yes, I presume they said something like that 
on the day of Pentecost.” 

Here one or two gallant young gentlemen 
came to the aid of their favorite, and, content 
with the testimony he had borne, Professor 
Graves did not choose to carry his part of the 
discussion further. 

Presently the talk turned upon the religious 
interest that had become so general in the com- 
munity. 

“ Have you heard Mr. Parks yet ? ” asked Mr. 
Lee, addressing Mrs. Moshier, and referring to 
Aii evangelist who had come to aid the pastors of 


208 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

the city in the work which called for additional 
laborers. 

“Oh, dear, yes I You know I always go to 
the regular Thursday evening servive,” was the 
reply. 

“ May I ask if you liked him ? ” 

“ Oh, what he had to say was all well enough ; 
but I think our pastor could have done quite as 
well,” was the careless reply. 

“Well,” said the young man, “ I shall give 
church a rest until this blows over.” 

“ Oh, no, Mr. Lee, you ought to go to church 
on Sabbath, certainly,” responded Mrs. Moshier, 
very sweetly. 

“ That’s so, Lee ; Mrs. Moshier gives orthodox 
advice,” said Dr. Baumes, from the lower end of 
the table. 

“ But I do ; I always go to church. You know 
that, Mrs. Le Grand. I have missed only two 
Sabbath mornings since I came here ; one of 
those I was sick, and the other I was lazy.” 

Mrs. Le Grand, thus appealed to, responded 
in her usual stately manner : 

“ I have observed that our friend Mr. Lee is a 


Mrs. Moshier Disturbed, 


209 


very conscientious attendant upon the public 
services of the sanctuary.” 

“But,” pursued Mr. Lee, “I think that one 
may be excused for letting up a little on it in 
these days. For my part, I think the whole 
proceeding is in very bad taste, Don’t you, Mrs. 
Moshier ? ” 

“ J must say,” replied that lady, “ that I should 
much prefer to hear my own pastor to-morrow.” 
Mrs. Moshier had suddenly grown very fond of 
her own pastor ! 

“ I wonder,” said Dr. Baumes “ that Mr. Ried 
should have allowed himself to have been drawn 
into such an arrangement.” 

“ Yet, we read, ‘ then departed Barnabas to 
Tarsus, for to seek Saul ; and it came to pass, a 
whole year they assembled themselves with the 
ohurch, and taught much people.’ Now I have 
never heard what the people said about that 
arrangement ; but I presume there were some to 
cavil and doubt the propriety,” 

This from professor Graves. 

“ Oh, well it was different, then. Now we 
have our regular pastor, and I do not see the 
necessity for all this stir.” 


210 Echoing and Re-echoing* 

“ Not even that the multitude outside may be 
saved?” questioned Mr. Graves. 

“ But think of it ! ” said Mr. Lee ; “ the thing 
is made so repulsive ; this man comes here 
heralded by the newspapers; sends his agent 
ahead, and while he preaches in one room the 
agent is busy driving bargains in hymn-books in 
the anteroom.” 

“ I do not know that we are responsible for the 
comments of the newspaper men, though I con- 
fess my inability to discover anything particu- 
larly objectionable in them,” responded Dr. Van- 
anden. 

“ But do you think it is in good taste ? I appeal 
to Mrs. Moshier. Is it not making religion a 
very common affair ? a by-word open to jest? a 
target for the scoffer ? ” 

Mr. Lee seemed suddenly to have become 
very jealous of the honor of the faith which he 
professed — nominally, at least. 

The lady to whom he appealed, replied : 
“ These things certainly are not to my taste and 
may not be to yours, but, perhaps, the newspaper 
publicity may not be so offensive to others, and 
our remarke might jar upon them. I think that 


Mrs, Mo shier Disturhed. 


211 


our tetter course is to keep quietly on in our 
usual course, and give others the privilege of 
following out their own plans.” 

“ But if these plans should be of the Lord ? ” 
questioned Dr. Vananden. 

“ I doubt if the Lord has much to do with this 
flourishing of trumpets,” said Mr. Lee. 

“ Perhaps not,” rejoined Mr. Graves ; “ but he 
has had to do with trumpets.” 

“Oh, yes; at Jeiiclio. But it is my opinion 
that there will have to be louder blowing than 
any this Parks can do, before the walls of this 
city will even totter.” 

“ Oh, Mr. Lee, you are getting irreverent I ” 
Mrs. Moshier’s rebuke had a laugh in it, which 
scarcely added to its effect as a rebuke. * 

Mr. Lee replied ; “ Oh, no ; I intend no irrever- 
ence ; but I do not like the way things are being 
done — this advertising the meetings, and send- 
ing an agent ahead, and all that. It is a regular 
hippodrome way of doing things.” 

There was a little murmur of dissent on the 
part of one or two of the set ; but the most of 
them laughed at the remark of Mr. Lee. Mr. 
Burgess, who was an avowed infidel, said ; 


212 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


“ Seems to me, Lee, that you are not ‘ witnessing 
for the truth ’ as your sort say.” 

“ Mr. Lee lets his life witness ” said Dr. 
Baumes. 

As Mr. Lee was not remarkable for strict 
uprightness of life, this remark caused a loud 
laugh around the table. 

“ Thanks ; ” and Mr. Lee bowed in acknowledg- 
ment of the bit of sarcasm that sounded like a 
compliment, though not understood as such; 
“ but I think I am witnessing by my words for the 
truth as I see it. I am sure that folly and super- 
stition in the Church are legitimate subjects for 
criticism.” 

The Doctor’s eyes flashed ; but he was silent, 
while his wife, getting roused, spoke quickly ; 

Then 3^11 consider it folly to save souls ? ” 

“ That does not follow,” returned the gentle- 
man ; “ it is the measures that I object to. I 
should not care to be classed among Mr. Parks 
converts. There is too much notoriety about 
him.” 

“Then, when 3mu go to the seaside next sum- 
mer, if you happen to be in danger of drowning, 
you wouldn’t wish to be saved by Miss Ida 


Mrs. Moshier Disturbed. 


213 


Lewis, because you would be classed among the 
number whom she has already rescued ; and you 
would, unconsciously, be adding to her noto- 
riety.” 

“ I should scarcely consider that an illustration 
that would count much for an argument,” was 
the polite reply of the gentleman. 

“ Perhaps not ; but it struck me that to be 
consistent, you should find some way of getting 
out of the water to correspond with your views 
upon other questions.” 

“ Oh, Mr. Lee would be sure to keep out of the 
water unless he was sure of an orthodox ‘ method ’ 
of getting out,” said Mr. Burgess. 

“ Yes, we all know that Mr. Lee is very ortho- 
dox.” This from Mrs. Moshier. 

“ But look at it !” resumed Mr. Lee, unwilling 
to let the subject drop ; “ if religion is anything 
it is a very serious matter ; and the way it is ad- 
vertised is positively disgusting.” 

“ Then because it is a serious matter it should 
be kept from the multitude ? The favored few of 
us who have been blessed with religious training 
will, of course, hear the announcements of any 
extra services from the pulpit ; but the masses 


214 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


whom these workers hope to reach, how are they 
to be invited, except through the press ? ” 

“ Why, my dear Mrs. Vananden, do you not 
understand that this is just what our friend here 
objects to — the trying to reach the masses? It 
is the fact of extra meetings that so vexes his 
soul.” 

“Now, Dr. Baumes, that is not fair to put it 
that way ; it is this unwarrantable intrusion of a 
stranger which I dislike. I consider it an impo- 
sition upon the taste and common sense of the 
Christian people.” 

As they went up stairs after dinner. Professor 
Graves stopped a few moments in Mrs. Van- 
anden’s parlor. 

“ I scarcely know whether to be more indig- 
nant or more sorrowful when I think of those 
people ; to think of professing Christians talking 
in such a scoffing manner ! ” 

“ Well, Professor,” said Sadie. “ I had no doubt 
at all ; I am just as indignant as I can be every 
time I hear them talk ; I think they outdid 
themselves to-night. But did you notice that 
Mr. Kent, usually the worst scoffer among them, 
was utterly silent ? ” 


Mrs, Moshier Disturhed. 


215 


Dr. Vananden was getting into his rubbers 
and overcoat. “ Now,” he said, winding his scarf 
about his throat, “I think, Sadie, that I shall 
not be around in time to go down to church with 
you, but will join you there ; and we must re- 
member that the grace of God is sufficient even 
for this : to bring these scoffing ones to a sense 
of their folly and sin.” 



% 



CHAPTER XVIII. 


LEAVING THE RANKS. 


“Ye have said, It is vain to serve God: and what profit 
Is it that we have kept his ordinances ? ** 



, H E bell of Court Street Church rang out 
an invitation for all ; its clear tone# 
penetrated tlie homes of those who never went 
to church at all. To some of these the old bell, 
which they had heard hundreds of times, pealing 
out the same call, seemed to-night to speak to 
them, saying, “ Come ! ” Some who had never 
thought of the call being addressed to them- 
selves, almost seemed to hear their own names 
in the invitation. So surely does the Spirit put a 
new voice into old familiar sounds I Words 

8i6 


Leaving The Ranks » 


217 


which have been passed unnoticed; pictures 
which have had no meaning ; glances and start- 
ing tears which have only excited wonder ; into 
any or all of these the Spirit sometimes puts a 
power that reaches out and takes hold of men 
who seem almost beyond reach. And that even- 
ing, even on the threshold of a drinking-saloon, 
the steps of some were staj^ed, and turned 
toward home and heaven, by the pleading voice 
of that church bell. 

And yet, Mrs. Moshier, in her daintily-appoint- 
ed room, heard that bell, and for her it had no 
message. Ah I had it none ? or was she one of 
those who having ears hear not ? Mrs. Le 
Grand, passing her door, which stood open, halt- 
ed a moment. 

“ Are you going to church, Mrs. Mosliier ? ” 

“ Oh, my I no ; I might better stay away. I 
don’t wish to be severe in my criticisms, and if I 
do not go I shall have less occasion for criticism.” 

“Well, if you have no engagement, will you 
come to my room for an hour? We will have a 
few games of whist, and Dr. Baumes and Mr. 
Burgess will join us.” 


218 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

That will be pleasant I I will come thank 
you.” 

Mr. Burgess heard the bell in his room, and 
paused for a moment in his reading. “ I sup- 
pose,” he thought, “that I might as well go 
down and hear what that man has to say. I do 
not fear the effect. My opinions are too firmly 
established to be easily disturbed, and it may be 
that he will have something to say that will give 
subject for thought. They say he is a splendid 
reasoner.” 

Still that bell I “ I’ve half a mind to go down 
a little while. I believe I will.” 

He had just risen to put on his coat, when 
Mrs. Le Grand appeared at his door. 

“ I came,” she began, in her most agreeable 
manner, “ to ask you to help a lonely old woman 
to pass away an evening. Will you join Mrs. 
Moshier and Dr. Baumes in a game of whist?” 

Still that bell I But its tone had changed. 
The call was not nearly so full of pleading. The 
face of the elegant woman standing in his door- 
way ; the invitation she brought ; the prospect 
of an evening with the fascinating young women, 
whose favor all the gentlemen boarders were 


Leaving The Ranks, 


219 


anxious to gain ; these considerations quite 
drowned the voice of the Spirit that would have 
led the listener into the place where the word 
was being spoken with power. 

That very evening, as Dr. Vananden was pass- 
ing down the hall, he met Mrs. Moshier, and 
stopping for a little talk, they drifted, as most 
people did in those days, to the subject that was 
engrossing attention so largely. In the course of 
the talk, the doctor said : 

“ I think, Mrs. Moshier, that you might, or, 
rather, 3"ou do have a powerful influence upon 
the young gentlemen of the house. It is a great 
power put into your hands ; I trust that you may 
have grace to use it wisely.” 

And Mrs. Moshier had only bowed in her 
most gracious manner and replied, lightly : “ In- 
deed ; Dr. Vananden, you greatly overestimate 
my influence. I do not suppose that my opinion 
has a feather’s weight with any of them.” 

“ You are not speaking with your usual can- 
dor Mrs. Moshier,” returned the Doctor. “ You 
can not be unaware of the gift which God has 
given you, by which these friends of ours are 


220 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

attracted and held. So I say, use your power 
for good.” 

All this was said so courteously, and the two 
were so well acquainted, that no offense could 
possibly be taken. But the Doctors words 
lingered with the lady, and someway the even- 
ing seemed unaccountably long and the game 
unusually dull. 

“ Where is Dr. Baumes ? ” asked Mrs. Mo- 
shier, when Mr. Burgess came in alone. 

“ Oh I Mrs. Vananden nabbed him and made 
off with him, before I got around to do Mrs. Le 
Grand’s bidding,” replied Mr. Burgess. 

“ But Mr. Lee will make up the party,” said 
Mrs. Le Grand ; and presently Mr. Lee saun- 
tered in. That was Mr. Lee’s usual manner of 
locomotion. He always sauntered along as 
though the world held no responsibilities for 
him. The son of a rich father, he had never 
been called upon to exert himself. His natural 
abilities had helped him over some hard places, 
and he had passed around the rest in his loung- 
ing way. To-night, in Mrs. Le Grand’s hand- 
some private parlor, he was in a hilarious mood. 
Since the evening when he had taken such a 


Leaving The Ranks, 


221 


strong position against the measures of his pas- 
tor, he had been growing reckless, frequenting 
places of amusement, getting up something to 
fill up the evenings, as if to keep the other young 
men from the meetings. Now he was planning 
a sleigh-ride, that should be the grandest thing 
of the season. “ Will to-morrow night do ? ” he 
asked, addressing Mrs. Moshier. 

“ I should not like to join you on Thursday 
evening,” was the reply. 

“ Why ? Oh I I remember ; you always go to 
church on Thursda}^ evenings. But now that 
there are meetings every evening, I don’t see 
why you are required to go on Thursday any 
more than any other day,” said Mr. Burgess. 

“ I am not responsible for the extra meetings ; 
I do not believe in them ; and consider them 
quite uncalled for. But I do believe in the 
weekly prayer-meeting, and always make it a rule 
to go. The innovations of Mr. Ried and this 
strange gentleman do not affect my duty in the 
matter.” 

Now, Mrs. Moshier thought that she was dis- 
playing her Christianity to an excellent advan- 
tage, and Mr. Lee looked and listened admiringly^ 


222 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

but Mr. Burgess could not fail to see the incon- 
sistency of her way of talking and doing. He 
didn’t believe much in any of it, but he liked to 
see people up to their profession. That was 
about what he said to himself, but he said aloud, 
turning to Mr. Lee and laughing: “Well, Lee, 
there is an example for you ; you belong to the 
same church. I should think you ought to re- 
member Thursday evening.” 

Mrs. Moshier fancied that she detected a 
peculiar emphasis upon the “ Thursday,” but she 
might have been mistaken. 

“Well, then, we will say Friday evening. 
We will start from the Curtis House at 7 
o’clock.” 

“ Why, Lee I you are too audacious. Don’t 
you remember that the Curtis House is next to 
Court Street Church, and seven is the hour for 
the meetings. What if Mr. Ried should happen 
to be going to church just as 3’ou are getting 
started ? ” 

“ Well, what of it? I guess if we want to go 
out to Clarksville and help them with their 
meetings we can do so,” and he laughed wick- 
edly. 


Leaving The Ranks, 


223 


“ I suppose there is no hope of getting Norton 
Graves to join us,” said Mr. Burgess. 

“ Dear me ! no. He is hopelessly entangled in 
the net that Mr. Ried has so skillfully spread. 
For my part, I believe most emphatically in 
religion, but I don’t believe in fanaticism.” 

“ Well,” said Mr. Burgess, “ Graves is a good 
fellow; I hate to give liim up.” 

“ Yes, and now they have got hold of the 
Doctor ; next you know he will be another fa- 
natic. He is made of just the right stuff.” 

Mr. Lee said this with a contemptuous tone, 
adding : “ I tell you the best way is to keep 
away, if you don’t want to be drawn in.” 

Meantime Dr. Baumes sat beside Mrs. Van- 
anden, listening to Mr. Parks. If the minister 
had known of his presence, and of the peculi- 
arities of his belief, or rather of his unbelief, he 
could not have chosen his subject more appropri- 
ately. The effect of the sermon upon the skep- 
tical hearer was manifest tlie next morning. Mr. 
Lee began the conversation ; 

“ Well, Doctor, you went to hear the great gun 
last night.” 

“ I did,” was the brief reply. 


224 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


“ And how do you like him ? ” 

“ So well that I shall hear him again this after- 
noon, if possible.’’ 

“ Whew I ” This was Mr. Lee’s expressive 
response. Mrs. Vananden gave her husband one 
glance and met his look, which she knew how to 
interpret. It said : “ God be praised.” They 
felt as did the others, who saw in it no cause for 
thankfulness, that once interested Dr. Baumes 
would not rest until he had satisfied himself as 
to the truth. 

Two days later, as they were at breakfast, Mrs. 
Moshier, laughingly, called upon Dr. Baumes to 
give them his candid opinion of the meetings. 

“ My candid opinion is that they are a power 
for good in this community ; that the results can 
never be summed up here.” He hesitated a 
moment. Mrs. Vananden leaned forward. He 
went on, after a brief pause : ‘‘ Probably it will 
save me from future embarrassment, and prevent 
misunderstandings, if I state here, that I am con- 
vinced of the truth of Christianity ; and, further- 
more, I am henceforth an avowed disciple of the 
Lord Jesus Christ.” 

Utter silence fell upon the group for half a 


Leaving The Ranks, 


225 


minute. Mr. Lee proved equal to the occasion. 
Rising from the table he passed around to Dr. 
Baumes’ side, and holding out his hand said, with 
a tremor in his voice : “ Doctor, I am very glad 
to greet you as a brother Christian.” 

Almost any one else would have said “ brother 
in Christ ; ” but I doubt if at that time Mr. Lee 
had any definite ideas of what it is to dwell in 
Christ, or to have the presence of Christ indwell- 
ing in the heart. 

He did not resume his seat, but left the room 
immediately. He did not appear at dinner, and 
no one knew what had become of him. One of 
the boarders had been to his office and found it 
locked. He had not been seen since he left the 
breakfast- table. He and Mr. Burgess were in 
the habit of meeting at the same table in a down- 
town restaurant, for lunch, but he had not been 
there. Of course his absence was the subject of 
much comment; some laughingly suggesting 
one thing and some another. 

Mr. and Mrs. Norton Graves, with Lydia 
Elmer, were stopping at the Crosby House for a 
few hours. As the Professor and his brother 
went up-stairs, Mr. Lee met them in the upper 


226 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


hall. He was pale, and his usual complacencj 
was evidently much disturbed. 

“We missed you at dinner,” said Professor 
Graves ; “ are you not well ? ” 

“ Are you going to the meeting to-night ? ” 
was the irrelevant response. 

“Yes, I intend to. Can I do anything for 
you ? ” 

Mr. Lee had followed the brothers into the 
Professor’s room, and thrown himself into a sofa 
corner. 

“ Well, if you will take me I’ll go with you,” 
said he, with a faint laugh. “ I suppose you’ll 
think it strange, but I have suddenly grown 
wonderfully interested in this Mr. Parks. I be- 
lieve I’ll go and hear him.” 

“ Well, are you going without your dinner? ” 
asked Mr. Graves. 

“ Perhaps I’ll get a cup of tea,” replied Mr. 
Lee ; “ I have not had lunch to-day, but — well, 
to tell the truth, I did not dare to go to dinner.” 

In reply to the inquiry which his companions 
looked, Mr. Lee continued : “ It is a rather hu- 
miliating confession, but I am afraid of Mrs. Mo- 
shier. I have made up my mind to a course 


Leaving The Ranks, 


227 


which I mean to follow, and I am certain that she 
would throw me off the track. She has already 
lead me farther than I meant to go. I wonder if 
she realizes the mischief she is doing right here 
in this house ? ” 

“I am afraid not,” returned the Professoi 
sadly ; “but my brother, I am thankful that you 
are breaking away. Do you mean that you are 
ready to renew your vows of allegiance to 
Christ?” 

“Just that. I have this day given myself 
anew to him.” 

“ Thank God I ” The brothers spoke the words 
in one breath, and Norton grasped the hand of 
his friend, who added : “ Dr. Baumes’ bold de- 
claration this morning unnerved me. I have 
shut my ears against the call of that church bell 
for several days, all the time feeling that it was 
calling me, and I am not sure that I should have 
yielded, had it not have been for the Doctor ; 
and even now, if I were to meet that woman, and 
listen to one of her slighting speeches about the 
methods of Mr. Ried and his associate, I am not 
sure but Satan might get the better of me. Any- 
way, I don’t want to meet her until 1 have com 


228 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

mitted myself on the other side. It must seem 
like weakness to you, but I am weak.” 

“ Then are you strong,” said Professor Graves, 
ferventl3\ 

In the service of song which preceded the 
sermon, one voice rang out clear and firm, thrill- 
ing the hearts of those who recognized it as be- 
longing to Mr. Lee. Especially did he sing with 
fervor the hymn ; 

“ One more day’s work for Jesus; 

One less of life for me ; 

But heaven is nearer, 

And Christ is dearer 
Than yesterday to me ; 

His love and light 
Fill all my soul to-nighL** 



CHAPTER XIX. 

MR. HARLEY SPEAKS. 

** Others mocking said, These men are full of new wine.” 



LR. T. L. Harley will speak in the lecture- 
room of this church, this afternoon at 
three o’clock, upon the subject of temperance, 
relating something of his own wonderful experi- 
ence; telling how God had led him, bringing him 
up out of a horrible pit into the light of Christ’s 
salvation.” 

This simple announcement, made by Rev. Mr. 
Ried on a Sabbath morning, was very differently 
received by the different classes of people who 
heard it. 


229 


230 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

The winter had slipped away, as all winters 
will, and summers too. There were many to re- 
joice with the glad-hearted pastor of Court Street 
Church, many who had been quickened into new- 
ness of life, many who, for the first time, had 
learned of a Saviour’s love ; and there were those 
who, surrounded by the same gracious influences 
as these, sitting by their side, listening to the 
same message, but hearing with unwilling ears, 
were forced to take up the lamentation, “Jesus 
of Nazareth has passed by I ” Into some house- 
holds there had come unity of purpose where 
before had come that spirit which, while uniting 
the children of God, makes the distinction marked 
between those who put Christ first and those 
who give the world the best of their thoughts and 
the most of their time. 

At the Crosby House Mrs. Moshier still held 
her sway over the larger part of the boarders, 
though her power over some of the most devoted 
of her admirers w^as broken. Mr. Lee having 
given himself anew to Christ, Mrs. Moshier 
sneers at the fanatic, and her expressed “ horror ” 
at the astonishingly poor taste exhibited by the 
most successful Christian workers, were insuf- 


Mr, Harley Speaks, 


231 


ficient to move him; and as for Dr. Baumes, 
Mrs. Moshier declared that he was the worst 
fanatic of the lot. 

“ Who is this Mr. T. L. Harley ? ’’ asked Mrs. 
Moshier, as the boarders met at dinner. 

“Why I don’t you know Mr. Harley?” asked 
Mr. Burgess, in surprise. 

“I do not know that I ever heard of him be- 
fore this morning,” returned the lady. “ I judge 
by your tone that I am betraying an ignorance 
that is quite astonishing ; but you must remem- 
ber that I have never been familiar with the sort 
of people that I judge this man to be from Mr. 
Ried’s remark. So, if it is at all worth while to 
know, you will have to enlighten me on the sub- 
ject.” 

“But, surely you have heard of the Harley 
Mission ? ” 

“ Why, yes, that enterprise of trying to civil- 
ize those barbarians down by the depot? But 
you don’t mean to say that this T. L. Ilaiiey is 
any connection of the Harleys down there ? ” 

“ Why, Mrs. Moshier, how can you be so 
stupid? And where have you been all these 
last months that you have not been cognizant of 


232 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


the progress of the world, and especially of that 
small corner of it hemmed in by the depot on one 
side and the river on another? Don’t you know 
that old Tim. Harley has been converted, and 
the good people who have been assisting in the 
matter have discovered that his peculiar forte is 
public speaking ? The gentleman to whom you 
are expected to listen this afternoon is none other 
than old Tim. Harley.” 

“ That old vagabond I What can Mr. Ried be 
thinking of?” 

“You forgot, Mrs. Moshier, that he is no longer 
% vagabond, if he ever could be classed with 
such. He has regained his manhood, and though 
not an elegant speaker, can tell his story simply 
and effectively.” 

It was Professor Graves’ calm tones that con- 
veyed this explanation to Mrs. Moshier. The 
Professor’s calmness always aggravated that lady, 
and she answered sharply ; 

“ I beg pardon. I forgot that it was an enter- 
prise in which you were especially interested, 
this diving down into the scums of earth after 
treasures.” 

“ You have exactly the right word, Mrs. Mo- 


Mr. Harley Speaks. 


233 


shier,” said the Professor. “ There is a treasure 
in every besotted victim of intemperance, and it 
is a glorious work to redeem and polish the 
treasure, and fit it to shine a star in heaven ; and, 
my friend, it is a work that the Lord permits us 
to have a hand in ! ” 

“ Oh, I don’t object to your preaching temper- 
ance to those people, but I really don’t want 
them to set themselves up to preach to me I 
And I think it is a queer thing for Mr. Ried to 
do, this holding an extra Sabbath service for 
the sake of giving Tim. Harley a chance to 
practice his declamation ! ” 

“ Mrs. Moshier, how can you ? ” 

“ Oh, now. Professor Graves, don’t be shocked. 
You know I don’t approve of a great many 
things which seem to you very right and proper, 
and why can’t you let me go on holding my own 
views and saying what I like? You know by 
this time that I have no sympathy with anything 
sensational.” 

“Ah! Well, I suppose that some of Peter’s 
preaching seemed sensational to the Jews ; and 
I remember that very few of them were in sym- 
pathy with it.” 


234 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


With this remark the Professor left the table. 

“ What a very singular man the Professor is, ’ 
remarked Mrs. Moshier, very complacently. 
“ He has such extreme views. I always had a 
prejudice against eccentricity.” 

“ Mamma,” said Florette, “ maybe Professor 
Graves thinks that you have extreme views. 
You always seem to be just as far away from his 
ideas as you can be. Aren’t there two extremes to 
everything ? ” 

“ There, Mrs. Moshier, what can you say to 
that reasoning ? Pretty well for Florette,” and 
Mr. Burgess laughed and pulled the long curls 
which hung over the back of the little girl’s 
chair. 

It was a simple, straiglitforward story that Mr. 
Harley had to tell. He had been a notorious 
drunkard until, through the efforts of Mr. Graves, 
he was induced to take the pledge. That was a 
happy day for his wife. “ Oh,” said she, “ I have 
been praying for this these fifteen years. I knew 
the Lord would hear, and he has, praised be his 
name I ” But that was not all. At the meetings, 
at what had come to be known as the Harley 
Mission, among the first to ask the way of life was 


Mr» Harley Speaks, 


235 


Tim. Harley himself ; and then, again, said the 
wife, “ I have been praying for this these fifteen 
years. The Lord has heard, praised be his 
name ? ” 

As Professor Graves sat listening to the well- 
dressed man who told his story so forcibly, he 
scarcely realized that it was the same individual 
who lay beastly drunk in a corner of a room the 
first time he went down to that forsaken quarter 
in rej^ponse to the request of Mrs. Harley. And 
as he reviewed his own labors there, and thought 
of the wonderful blessings which had come upon 
those people, he too said, “ Praised be his name ? ” 

Said Mr. Harley : “ I never knew what it was 
to be sober, for years. I drank when I got up ; 
I drank before breakfast, and after breakfast; 
before dinner, and after dinner ; before supper, 
and after supper ; when I went to bed ; when I 
had extra work to do, and when I had nothing to 
do ; and, besides, I took a few drinks between 
times. I drank up a house and lot, a good farm, 
besides railroad stocks and bonds. I lost the re- 
spect of my fellow-men as well as my self-respect. 
I was more like a brute than a man ; aye, I made 
myself lower than the brutes, for they fulfill the 


236 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

purpose of their creation; while I — Oh, my 
friends, I was making a fiend of myself. I drank, 
and I cursed ; I made my home a horrid den of 
wretchedness; but my dear wife stood by me 
through all, and by her prayers held me back 
from destruction. Then God sent me another 
friend ; ” and then he went on to tell of the little 
prayer-meetings, and to relate the wonderful way 
in which he had been led out of the darkness. 
Perhaps, if Mrs. Moshier had not been so preju- 
diced against “ extra services,” tliat she could not 
be prevailed upon to go to hear Mr. Harley, she 
might have been convinced that what she sneering- 
ly called a declamation was not devoid of interest, 
and in no way shocking to good taste. There 
were those who could join in the rejoicing of the 
angels over one sinner converted to God. 

It was about this time that Lydia Graves stood 
in the doorway of Mrs. Vananden’s parlor, quite 
early one morning. 

“ And so you are really going to move ? ” she 
asked, watching Mrs. Vananden as she tenderly 
wrapped Ester’s portrait in many folds of soft 
paper before transferring it to the man who was 
assisting her. 


Mr. Harley Speaks. 


237 


“ Yes, we are. Come in. The other room is 
not torn up yet ; I think we can find a place to 
sit down there,” and Mrs. Vananden led the way 
into the back parlor. Continuing: “It is a 
rather sudden move at last, though we have con^ 
templated it for a long time. On man}' accounts 
it is very comfortable here ; but there are things 
that make it almost unendurable at times. Lydia, 
just think of coming in from prayer-meeting to 
hear the click of wine-glasses as we pass the 
doors, which are almost always left open ; and 
then think of being obliged to hear until late at 
night, often until long after midnight, the jokes 
and laughter of a card party in the next room, 
and especially these warm evenings, when the 
windows as well as doors are to be left open.” 

“ It must be very unpleasant,” remarked 
Lydia. 

“ But the worst is Sundays. The pain of that 
is dreadful. At dinner the nature of the convert 
sation is often such, that I positively declare that 
it would not pain me more to listen to the swear- 
ing of the worst pirate crew that ever sailed I ” 

“Oh, Mrs. Vananden I” 

“It is true I I don’t know that irreverence 


238 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


and Sabbath-breaking, or scoffing and blas- 
phemy, are any less a sin or any less shocking 
when clothed in silk and lace or fine broadcloth. 
It IS so very unpleasant to have to listen to 
sneers directed towards the cause we love, that 
we have decided to go where people love and 
serve the same Saviour.” After a moment’s pause 
Mrs. Vauanden continued, in a softer tone : Not 
that I would unchristian those in the house who 
profess to love the Saviour. But while their 
views and practices are so diametrically opposite 
to our own, upon almost every point connected 
with Christian life and Christian work, there can 
be very little sympathy among us.” 

“ But,” said Lydia, “ it seems to me that they 
are lacking in common politeness.” 

“ So they are, as I think ; but they call us fa- 
natics, and do not reckon our opinions as worthy 
of consideration,” said Mrs. Vananden, laughing a 
little. 

“Well, I supposed that really polite people re- 
garded the religious opinions of others as some- 
thing to be respected at all events.” 

“ I used to think so, but I find that people’s 
ideas differ as to the ground which the words 


Mr. Harley Speaks* 239 

‘ common politeness * will cover,” returned Mrs. 
Vananden. 

“ Wliat has become of Dr. Baumes?” asked 
Lydia. ' 

“ Why, didn’t you know ? He has gone to 
Nelson. Going to stay. Ralpli wrote to Dr. 
Newland, who is the pastor of the First Church 
there, and they have put Dr. Baumes right into the 
harness. Hade him superintendent, and I don’t 
know what. He says in his last letter that he is 
working out some of the practical things which 
he has been hearing during the last year or two ; 
hearing and fitting to some one else, but which 
now seem to fit him exactly.” 

“It seems wonderful — he was such a scoffer I ” 
“ Yes ; and while I am full of thankfulness for 
the two of the family here who were led to 
Christ, I can never feel that I and the other 
Christians in the house did not, by our inconsist- 
encies, keep others from being drawn under the 
same influences that led those into the light.” 

“ Well,” said Lydia, “I must go. When do 
you mean to get out and 

“ Oh, we expect to get settled by to-morrow 
bvening. Come around and see us in the even- 


240 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


ing? I’ll speak to the Professor, and we’ll have 
a house-warming with two guests ! ” 

“ Maybe. How nice, that you can go to Mrs. 
Betson’s and it will be a good thing for her, now 
that Tom is to be away altogether. But good- 
by,” and Lydia went down stairs and was joined 
at the hall-door by Mr. Lee, who was just start- 
ing for his office. 

“Well,” he began, a little sadly, “ everybody 
seems to be on the wing.” 

“ Yourself included ? ” questioned Lydia. 

“ Not exactly. Truth to tell, I am halting be- 
tween two opinions.” 

“ Indeed I I had not supposed you to be one 
of that sort.” 

“ I confess that I am surprised myself,” he 
answered, laughing. “It is not whether I shall 
go or stay, though that is involved ; but a ques- 
tion lies back of that, which I find it hard to solve. 
The fact is. Miss Elmer, I have come to one of 
those dark places that Mr. Ried spoke of last 
Sunday.” 

“ I suppose that it was dark to the children of 
Israel, but still the command was to go for- 
ward.’ 


Mr. Harley Speaks. 241 

“ But how is one to know for certain that he is 
going right ? ” 

“Well,” said Lydia, “you remember what 
Mr. Ried said about knowing? We have the 
word of God, the Spirit to lead us, the provi- 
dences to direct us, the privilege of holding com- 
munion with Christ by prayer ; and, then, don’t 
you remember what he said about a person’s 
doubting what was his duty, when he was not 
quite willing or quite ready to do it. That struck 
me as being a very common way of reasoning.” 

Mr. Lee smiled. 

“ I’ll think about that last, and see if I can 
make it apply. Good-morning.” 




CHAPTER XX. 


HELEN AND TOM. 

** Examine me, O Lord, and prove me.” 

% 

KNOW it, Helen. I’m not doubting 

your willingness to make the sacrifice ; 
but it does not seem right for me to accept it.” 

The Betson family was discussing ways and 
means, lingering long around the tea-table. 
Helen’s tea was untouched, so eager had she been 
in her effort to prove that a plan which she had 
herself proposed was one that they ought to carry 
out, though it was a plan that would involve a 
sacrifice on her part. 

“ I don’t understand how you made it seem 

242 


Helen and Tom, 


243 


any other way than right,” returned Helen. “ It 
seems to be not only expedient, but a necessity.” 

“ Not at all, as I look at it,” responded Tom ; 
** because I can work my way through.” 

“Yes, and waste years of your life, the best of 
them, too,” interrupted Helen. “ You see, Tom, 
I don’t think there is any special merit in a 
man’s resolve to be independent, and work his 
own wa}^, when there is no special necessity to 
go with it. I admire a self-made man ; but I 
don’t think that self-making consists entirely in 
sawing wood and ringing bells, or doing anything 
of that sort, to pay one’s way through college. It 
seems to me that overcoming your pride, so as to 
accept graciously your sister’s offer, would make 
quite a piece of a man. Now,” she continued, 
“ if that miserable bank hadn’t gone and failed, 
you and I could have gone on with our studies 
just as papa planned ; but as it is, I do not believe 
that he would have objected to my giving up to 
you. I know that he was anxious that you 
should be a minister.” 

“ And so I mean to be ; and I shall get along. 
The Lord will provide a way,” said Tom. 

Helen smiled as she answered : 


244 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

And if, when the way is provided, you turn 
scornfully away and say, ‘ That is not quite ac- 
cording to my ideas,’ do you expect Him to go 
on suggesting plans for your advancement, until 
you are suited ? May it not be possible that thi% 
is the Lord’s way I ” 

Tom toyed with his napkin, rolling it tightly, 
as if he were a surgeon’s assistant, and about to 
assist in an operation, while Helen continued : 

“ And don’t you see, that it will not be so 
great a sacrifice, after all ? If Dr. and Mrs. Van- 
anden come here to board I shall have a little 
extra money, for you know that mamma has 
promised half of what they pay, to me, if I will 
look after certain details of the housekeeping.” 

This time Tom laughed. 

“A pretty large if! I hope that the certain 
details are not very essential to the Doctor’s com- 
fort,” he said. 

“ Don’t worry about the Doctor’s comfort,” re- 
turned Helen ; “ but let me give you the details, 
not of the housekeeping, but of my plan. I don’t 
mean to give up study, though my course will 
be less regular than yours. I shall buy books and 
music, and attend lectures, and read the papers. 


Helen and Tom, 


245 


so you need uot fear that I shall be so old-fash- 
ioned and ignorant that you will be asliamed to 
introduce me to your friends when I come to hear 
your Commencement oration ! ” 

“ None of that, Helen ! A fellow would be a 
brute to be ashamed of a sister who had given up 
her chance of education for his sake.” 

“ And don’t you see, that it will be pleasanter 
for mother than it would be if I went away too ? 
She could never stay here alone.” 

“ You are not to take me into consideration in 
your plans,” said Mrs. Betson. “ Of course we 
can not now carry out our projects of closing our 
house for a time, and setting up a house in New 
Haven for a time ; but some other plan for me 
can be devised.” 

“ I think that I shall stay here with you, 
mother ; so let’s get at those shirts to-morrow ; 
next week we shall have to arrange the rooms. 
I hope that Mrs. Vananden will like the new pa- 
per. Her rooms at the Crosby house are just 
lovely I ” 

Helen seemed to consider that she had gained 
her point, but Tom had to talk the matter over 
many times before he could bring himself to ac- 


246 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

cept Helen’s sacrifice. He would say to him* 
self, “ I don’t believe that I could do it, give up 
my chances of an education to help some one 
else : but Helen seems so willing, even anxious 
about it. 1 don’t understand it ; and I am afraid 
that I am not fit to be a minister ! ” While Tom 
was willing and even anxious that Helen should 
use her own share of the money which Mrs. Bet- 
son felt could be set apart, out of their diminished 
means, for their education, he could not bring 
himself to the point where he wanted to relin- 
quish his claim to Aer, and this thought troubled 
him, and he became very unhappy over it. He 
remembered Mr. Ried’s sermon on the text 
“ Seeketh not her own,” and he asked himself, 
“ Can this which I thought to be a desire to do 
Christ’s work, to obey his command in preaching 
the gospel — can this be a self-seeking ? T can’t 
accept her sacrifice, neither can I be willing to 
make a corresponding one.” Torn had a good 
many puzzling thoughts over this question, and 
got quite into the dark. He even began to think 
that he had no right to call himself a Christian 
at all, while he was harboring so much of selfish- 


Helen and Tom, 


247 


ness. Finally, he had a little talk with Mr. 
Ried. 

“ See here, my boy,” said the pastor, when Tom 
had opened his heart to him, “ you think that 
God wants you to preach the gospel ? ” 

“ Why, yes, sir, I have thought so until lately ; 
but I don’t believe that I can ever be fit. A 
Christian, and especially a minister, ought to be 
willing to make sacrifices ; and, as I have told 
you, I can’t be willing to relinquish all my hopes 
and prospects of a thorough education ; and yet 
it seems that I ought to be willing to do as much 
as my sister.” 

“Tom,” said the pastor, “what reason have 
you for supposing that the Lord requires of you 
exactly the same sacrifice that he calls upon 
Helen to make? ” 

Tom was a little surprised at the question ; but 
he answered quite readily : 

“ Why, I thought that a Christian ought to be 
willing to do or suffer anything.” 

“ Are you willing to lay your hand upon those 
coals in that stove ? ” 

“ Why, no ; I don’t think T am ; yet if it were 


248 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

what Christ required I should ask him for 
strength as I needed.” 

“ But,” said Mr. Ried, “ God has required just 
that of some among the early Christians ; why 
don’t you conclude that he requires it of you 
because others have been called to suffer thus ? 
You have been measuring your duty by Helen’s. 
It may be that the Master has set to you a harder 
task than this self-denial has been to her. In 
these last few weeks you have been cherishing 
plans of independence, ideas of self-education, of 
growing strong b}^ overcoming hindrances, and of 
the gratification it would be to you to feel that 
greatly by your own endeavor you have made 
your way to a position of influence and useful- 
ness. Now, what if God requires you to put 
away these ambitions, laudable though they may 
be in some cases, and accept the aid which your 
sister offers, saving time and strength for the 
Lord’s work ? Are you ready to sacrifice your 
pride and your notions of independence ? Sup- 
pose you look a little more closely at this side of 
the question.” 

“ I confess that I have not considered it in the 
light of a sacrifice that I ought to make in accept- 


Helen and Tom. 


249 


ing her offer ; it has seemed as if the older and 
stronger should bear the burden of work if there 
is one to be borne by either of us.” 

“ Tom, ’ said the pastor, “ you are willing to 
devote your time, your strength, your talents 
and all else that you possess to the work of 
preaching the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
but there is one little bit of pride and indepen- 
dence that you are not Quite ready to lay upon 
the altar. Now, it is not for me to say that 
Helen should lay down her plans, and I know 
that these are cherished plans, but if she has 
prayerfully and conscientiously made her decis- 
ion, and your mother, with whom, after all, the 
matter rests, concurs in Helen’s views, why, 
then, it seems to me that you should consider 
very carefully and very prayerfully before you 
refuse ; and don’t imagine that you are to mea- 
sure you duty by hers.” 

The Betsons were not poor, but there had been 
some heavy losses which called for a lessening of 
expenses and a change of plans, with a sacrifice 
on the part of some one, and Helen came promptly 
to the front in the matter, while Tom spent a 
great deal of time and wasted his strength in 


250 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

endeavoring to bring himself into exactly the 
same position. Now he had a new field for con- 
flict ; he was a proud fellow, and he had always 
been a hero worshiper. A self-made man was 
his idol, and I am not sure that he was not 
secretly glad of the opportunity which he saw 
opening before him for following in the footsteps 
of some of his favorite heroes ; and now Helen 
had stepped quietly forward and closed the 
door. Tom had a vague notion that she had 
given up the dearest hope of this life, and per- 
haps it was well that he could not know of the 
conflict through which she had passed before she 
so quietly and persistently held her position. 
Could he have seen her as she gathered up the 
catalogues, and photographic views, and the 
illustrated magazine articles, and whatever else 
she had collected that related to the school which 
she had selected, and put them all away in the 
darkest corner of the closet, with a look on her 
face such as comes only to one who buries a 
cherished hope, he must have wondered more at 
the cheerfulness with which she went about the 
work of carrying new plans into effect. It was 
yet early spring. Tom would be at home until 


Helen and Tom. 


251 


fall, and she meant to make the most of him. 
There were many things to be done in view of 
nis long absence, and Helen gave herself resolute- 
ly to the work. 

And this, which seemed to be only the settle- 
ment of a little family matter, had brought some- 
thing new into Tom’s life. He began to see more 
clearly that to him who commits all his way unto 
the Lord there is nothing in which he may act 
independently ; that a complete submission takes 
in pride and ambition as well as time and talents ; 
that the requirement, “ Follow me,” covers every- 
thing. 

Mrs. Vananden’s presence in the household 
was a great help to Helen. The lady herself, 
looking back to her own girlhood, remembered 
her needs ; and when Helen came into her room, 
as she sometimes did, with a look on her face that 
said, “ I’ve come to a hard place,” she was ready 
with her word, and it was always a word in the 
right place. 

It was a dark, rainy evening, a week or two 
after the Doctor and his wife were settled among 
them. Helen had a cold ; Tom had gone with 
the Doctor to prayer-meeting, leaving Helen to 


252 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

nurse her cold, very much to her disappointment 
She had an unsually hard day; some of those 
“ details ” about which Tom had been suspicious 
had gone all awry, just as housekeeping details 
will. And that wretched cold ! sniff! sniff! eyes, 
nose and cheeks red as a peony ! and temper — 
well, the less said about that the better for 
Helen’s reputation. The world looked all askew, 
and my young lady felt as though home were 
dull, every association uncongenial, and her whole 
range of occupation narrow. While she did not 
regret her sacrifice, there were hours when a 
sense of its bitterness came over her afresh, and 
this was one of them. 

In reply to a remark of Helen’s about th^i 
narrowness of her life, Mrs. Vananden said : 

“ My dear child, it is not for you to talk about 
narrowness. Why, you have a breadth and scope 
of infiuence and power that might well make you 
tremble! It is not flattery for me to say that 
you are a leader among the young people. You 
are aware of that, and you cannot evade or turn 
away from the responsibilities of that position. 
You have a Sunday-school class. How that 
widens your influence ! Those little girls have 


Helen and Tom, 


253 


mothers ; some of them have mothers who are 
not Christians. Did you ever think how your 
teachings may be eclioing in the house of those 
children ? how, through them, you, young as you 
are, may reach the fathers and mothers ? Nar- 
row ! Why, your life is a growth, broadening 
and brightening even into perfect proportions and 
the brightness of day ! ” 

“ I know,” said Helen, “ that I am unreason- 
able to-night, for I do think that I belong to 
Christ, and that the things he gives me to do and 
to bear are just what is needful and right ; but 
sometimes I get discouraged, and everything 
seems so empty.” 

“I think that what you need is to seek for the 
continual presence of the Saviour. You need to 
have in your own experience the fulfillment of 
the promise of our Lord, “We will come unto 
him and make our abode with him.” There is a 
peculiar sense in which the Lord may be present 
with his children, so that they may feel not only 
secure and safe, but conscious of his love and 
presence. This is not a visionary thought for it 
is distinctly promised ; neither need it be an occa- 


254 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

sioiial experience, for the words are, ‘ Make our 
abode with him.’ ” 

While the rain fell heavily without, Helen sat 
curled up on the rug before the open grate, her 
head buried in the cushions of a great arm-chair, 
and listened to such words of counsel. And they 
were not beyond her depth, for that last winter 
had been a period of growth to Helen Betson. 
Steadily her feet had been tending upwards ; and 
she was being lifted into that plane of life where 
the stern performance of duty gives place to the 
service of love. The free, happy service of a 
heart abiding in Christ, the full surrender of the 
soul, turns bondage into freedom and duty into 
love, and Helen was not far from the point where 
she would find that self-forgetting love would 
make her life a joyful song. 



CHAPTER XXI. 


HELEN DECIDES A QUESTION. 


“Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father, 
Is this : to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, 
and to keep himself unspotted from the world.” 



ELEN Betson stood upon the doorstep at 
the parsonage, talking for a few mo- 
ments with Mr. Ried. The topic was a Sunday- 
school picnic that was to come off very soon. 

“Can you come around to the parlors this 
evening and help with those banners ? ’’ asked 
Mr. Ried, when the matter which Helen came 
about had been disposed of. 

“ This evening ? ” repeated Helen, hesitatingly. 
“Why, I could, only there is Mrs. Moshier’s 
party.'* 


*55 


256 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


“ Ah ! and you are going ? ” asked Mr. Ried, 
with a touch of disapproval in his tones. 

Helen noticed it, and she answered a little 
doubtfully : 

“ Why, yes, sir, I intended to go ; but, of 
course, if there were more important matters in 
hand, I could give up the party j but I supposed 
that I could do my part of the work to-morrow, 
or even later. We have nearly a week yet.” 

“ Oh, It is not that; we have time enough, I 
suppose,” returned Mr. Ried. “ I presume that 
there will not be many to help this evening, so 
there will be plenty to do to-morrow night.” 

“But are not you and Mrs. Ried going to Mrs. 
Moshier’s ? ” asked Helen. 

“ I think not,” replied Mr. Ried ; “ she will 
hardly expect to see her pastor there.” 

“Wh}^ has she not sent you invitations?” 
asked Helen, in surprise. 

Mr. Ried smiled. 

“Certainly; Mrs. Moshier never forgets the 
proprieties.” 

Helen looked puzzled. 

“ Mr. Ried,” she began, “ I don’t understand 
you at all I ” 


Helen Decides a Question. 257 

“Don’t you? I was not aware that my re- 
marks were of a puzzling character. Which of 
them is it that you do not understand?” He 
was laughing now, and Helen laughed too, as she 
answered ; 

“Taken singly, they are plain enough; but 
I do not see the connection.” 

“Well,” he returned, “let me enlighten you 
by asking a question. Have you any idea as 
to what sort of an entertainment this is to be ? ” 

“ Why, like any other party, I suppose,” re- 
plied Helen. “It is understood to be a con- 
gratulatory gathering on the occasion of her tak- 
ing possession of her grand new house, like an 
old-fashioned house-warming.” 

“Well, suppose you talk it over with my 
cousin, Mrs. Vananden ? ” 

Helen went down street towards home, wear- 
ing a somewhat puzzled look. Now it so hap- 
pened that the subject of amusements had never 
been up for Helen Betson’s consideration. As 
a school-girl she had been allowed to do pretty 
much as she pleased, except that there were a 
few things which she and Tom understood that 
their father disapproved of and these things they 


258 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

avoided. Among these were card playing, and 
all other games of kindred character ; and Tom 
had grown up with a settled conviction that his 
father was right, and he would no more touch 
the unclean things than he would handle red- 
hot coals. When the games were introduced in 
companies where he chanced to be, he always 
excused himself from engaging in them on the 
plea that he had no taste for anything of that 
sort ; that is, he did so until, of late, he had been 
led to look into the subject for himself, and saw 
no reason for changing his views ; but, on the 
contrary, found many reasons which strength- 
ened him in his convictions. 

At the school-girl parties which Helen had at- 
tended she had danced as a matter of course. 
Her father never particularly objected, though 
he considered it a senseless and silly waste of 
time and strength. He would not consent to his 
daughter’s attendance at dancing-schools because 
it was “ nonsense,” and because he never saw a 
dancing-master with whom he wished his chil- 
dren to be upon a footing, such as the relations of 
teacher and pupil would necessitate. Still, 
Helen had picked up a very creditable knowledge 


Helen Decides a Question, 259 

of the art and was quite fond of the amusement. 
Since she became a professing Christian the sub- 
ject had not once occured to her, owing greatly 
to the fact that her father’s sickness and death 
following so closely upon her public confession of 
Christ, had, for the time shut her off from social 
visits, and she had never resumed her attendance 
upon entertainments of the gayer sort. But now 
Mrs. Moshier had left her boarding-house, and 
gone to live in one of the most elegant houses in 
town, and her invitations were out for a grand 
entertainment. It had never occurred to Helen 
that she might not attend with the utmost pro- 
priety ; and her dress had cost her considerable 
time and money ; but it was all ready, and her 
errand down town was to try it on, and select 
the gloves and ribbons to go with it. 

Mr. Ried had awakened some new thoughts in 
her mind, which she resolved as she went along. 
“ Talk it over with Mrs. Vananden.” In the 
first place, Mrs. Vananden was out of town when 
Mrs. Moshier’s delicately-tinted and perfumed 
notes were sent around, and had only returned 
the day before, and, though she had grown so 
soon into the habit of carrying her heartaches to 


260 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

her new friends, Helen had not learned to talk 
over her little anticipations ; someway she fancied 
that parties were such an indifferent matter to 
Mrs. Vananden that she would appear silly in 
that lady’s eyes if she greeted her with idle talk 
about Mrs. Moshier’s party; so she was silent, 
though her tongue ached to talk all through 
breakfast time, 

“ Mrs. Vananden ! ” she said, bursting into that 
lady’s presence, “ are you going to Mrs. Moshier’s 
this evening? ” 

Mrs. Vananden looked up in some surprise, 
not at the question, but at the vehemence of the 
questioner. 

“ I think not ; Mrs. Moshier will scarcely ex- 
pect to see me,” she replied, smilingly. 

“ Just the words Mr. Ried used ! ” exclaimed 
Helen, half petulantly. “ And I don’t know at 
all what either of you mean.” 

“ Don’t you ? ” asked Mrs. Vananden. 

“No, I don’t I Why wouldn’t she expect to 
see you as well as other people ? And, of course, 
she would not expect everybody to stay away. 
I should think that she would want her pastor, 
anyway.” 


Helen Decides a Question, 261 

“Helen,” said Mrs. Vananden, “Mrs. Moshier 
holds many opinions which are at variance with 
the word of God as I read it, and as our pastor 
and hers preaches it. Among them are her views 
upon the subject of social entertainments. I 
should not feel justified in giving an entertain- 
ment of the sort that hers will be to-night, and I 
see no reason why it would be any more justifi- 
able for me to attend hers^ 

“ Do you think it wrong for Christians to at- 
tend parties ? ” asked Helen, with a great wonder 
in her tones and face. 

Mrs. Vananden smiled. 

“ You are asking a question which covers a 
great deal of ground. Let me ask you one that 
is narrower in its application. Would you have 
thought it right for you or for me to have at- 
tended the military ball last winter ? ” 

“ Why, no, I guess not. Mother would never 
let me go to a public entertainment of that sort ; 
so I never thought anything about the right or 
wrong of it for Christians,” said Helen, adding ; 
“ But I know that it would be a strange place in 
which to fancy meeting Mr. Ried. On the 


262 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

whole, I don’t think that it would be just the 
place where a Christian ought to go.” 

“Well, now I am so simple, or so bigoted, as I 
suppose our friend Mrs. Moshier would call it, 
that I am unable to see any difference between a 
fashionable dancing party, got up by a number 
of persons sending out select invitations, and one 
which is managed entirely by one person, when 
there is no difference in the nature of the enter- 
tainment. Mrs. Moshier will have dancing, and 
she will have card-tables, and will serve wine, 
and I presume that their will be accommodations 
for smokers. Now I fail to see the difference be- 
tween the two things, and if one is wrong, why 
then the other is wrong too.” 

“ But,” said Helen, “ the people who got up 
that military ball argued just the other way. I 
remember that I heard Mr. Burgess trying to 
persuade a friend of mine to attend ; and he said 
that it was exactly the same thing as a private 
party, that the committee were very particular in 
making out their list, and that everything would 
be in the style of the most genteel private enter- 
tainments.” 

“ Yes, the only point of difference in our argu- 


Helen Decides a Question, 263 

ment is that these people argue that both are 
riglit, while I argue that both are wrong.” 

“But,” continued Helen, “I can’t see just 
where the harm lies. Of course I believe that 
some of these things are wrong ; but, then, one 
is not obliged to engage in them. There will be 
plenty of people that will not go near the card- 
tables, and many who will not drink wine.” 

“ And I presume that there will be some who 
will not dance,” added Mrs. Vananden. 

“ Mrs. Vananden, do you think it is wrong to 
dance ? 

“ How would you feel to see your pastor danc- 
ing ? ” was the response. 

“ Wh}^ I don’t know ; I guess I should be 
astonished. I suppose it is partly because we 
have been accustomed to think of ministers as 
being above such things, that we are shocked at 
the thought ; but I have always danced, and I 
never thought it was wrong ; though I knew 
that some people disapproved of it. But, honestly, 
I never heard one good reason given for disap- 
proval. Now, won’t you please give me some 
arguments ? ” 

“ In favor ? ” asked the other, smiling. 


264 


Echoing and Re-echoing. 


“ Ob, no, I have all I need in favor.” 

“ I used to be passionately fond of the amuse- 
ment myself,” said Mrs. Vananden. “Indeed, 
for a long time the unwillingness to give up the 
practice stood between my soul and my Saviour. 
Now, if you would like to know why I do not 
dance I will tell you. In the first place, I found, 
very early in my Christian life, that the nearer I 
kept to Christ the less inclination I had to engage 
in the pastime ; and I naturally concluded that 
if the two loves could not abide with me at the 
same time there must be some antagonism be- 
tween the two. For me the question settled 
itself by my growing distaste for the amusement. 
But there are reasons which I might give 3^ou 
which ought to appeal to those who would not 
be swayed by any thought of Christian obliga- 
tion. For instance, the effect upon health. It 
needs no labored argument to prove that close 
rooms, late hours, violent exercise during those 
late hours and undue excitement, all of which 
are almost invariably the accompaniments of the 
practice, are in a high degree pernicious to 
health.” 

“ But,” said Helen, “ I have heard people say 


Helen Ihcides a Question. 265 

that it was a very healthful exercise, and gave 
strength and elasticity to the limbs as well as 
making people graceful.” 

“ W ell, ray dear, I am the wife of a physician, 
and have a brother-in-law who is also a physician, 
so that I have some means of knowing how it is 
regarded by the profession ; and, besides, I 
could tell you of many young girls who died 
early, falling victims to disease induced by danc- 
ing and its concomitants, among them a dear 
friend of my girlhood, a girl of rare qualities and 
bright promise. If I had a daughter I would 
sooner run the risk of her being as ungraceful as 
an elephant than take the risk of the loss of 
health and life itself.” 

“ But just for once in a while there couldn’t 
be much danger in that.” 

“ It is not like you to reason that way, Helen. 
If a thing is wrong at all it is wrong always, 
isn’t it?” 

“ I suppose so,” replied Helen, doubtfully. 

“ Now, let me give you some reasons why, as 
a Christian, I do not dance. I have found as I 
said in the first place, that nearness to Christ 
crowds out all desire to engage in this amuse- 


266 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

ment. Indeed, this is my strongest reason ; but 
there are others. The practice as we find it is 
damaging to the mind and morals. I am con- 
vinced that there is a great loss of moral purity 
inevitably connected with the practice. This 
may seem a strong assertion ; but look at the 
association of the dance. Again, did you ever 
hear of any one asking God’s blessing upon a 
company gathered for an evening’s entertain- 
ment of this sort? Do people, even those who 
are loudest in defense of their favorite amuse- 
ment, expect or gladly welcome to their midst 
the minister of the gospel or those eminent as 
Christian workers ? ” Do they even expect that 
men of culture and high literary attainments will 
fritter away precious hours thus ? ” 

“But, after all, is dancing any worse than 
some other things that people engage in foi 
amusement ? ” asked Helen. 

“ I presume not ; but because stealing is no 
worse than lying, shall we steal ? ” 

Helen laughed. 

“ I see,” she said, “ that isn’t much of an argu- 
ment, but people do call it one.” 

I know they do,” returned her friend, “ and 


Helen Decides a Question, 267 

I would substitute only liarmless and rational 
amusements, not forgetting that what would 
seem enjoyable to me might be very dull and 
meaningless to you younger people.” 

“But T don’t see,” pursued Helen, “just why 
one can not carry religion into the dancing- 
room. I think that if I were to have Willard 
Hunting for a partner to-night that I could, and 
most likely should, talk about religion. You see 
we have had a good deal to say about the sub- 
ject lately. Willard is very much interested, 
and I — ” here Helen’s voice sank to a whisper 
— “I am praying for him.” 

Mrs. Vananden smiled. 

“ Dear child,” she said, “ does it not strike you 
as somewhat incongruous, this mingling of re- 
ligious conversation with the music of a dancing 
tune, with the gay dress and trifling conversa- 
tion around you ? ” 

At this point of the conversation there came a 
rap at the door, and Mrs. Vananden admitted a 
visitor. 

“ Don’t go,” she said, as Helen was about to 
slip away. “ Mrs. Graves is the very person to 
tell you a story that will answer your thought bet- 


268 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

ter than any argument I can shape.” Then, turn- 
ning to Mrs. Graves, she continued : “ Strangely 
enough, you have come just at the right time ; I 
want you to tell Helen how you tried to carry 
religion into the ball-room.” 

A bright flush spread itself over the face of the 
visitor for a moment, as if a painful recollection 
had been awakened ; then she said : 

“ Is our Helen desirous of trying the experi- 
ment ? I can assure her it is a dangerous one to 
try ; for you risk the loss of spiritual growth and 
vigor, and there is scarcely a chance of doing a 
bit of good. As for my own experiment, it end- 
ed disastrously enough; and had I not been 
spared and given grace to retrieve my error as far 
as possible the end would have been sad, indeed I 
After I was engaged to Mr. Graves I became a 
Christian, and, of course, I longed to have him 
join me in the beginning of a new life ; but while 
he always listened to my urgent appeals with 
some degree of interest, that was all. Satan 
suggested that I ought to be careful not to dis- 
gust my friend by unnecessary strictness, so I 
went out with him just as before, to all sorts of 
places, without regard to the question of con- 


Helen Decider a Question. 269 

sistency. I thought that I was manifesting a 
very good spirit, and I really imagined that 1 
was glorifying God when I accompanied my 
husband to a series of dancing parties at Per- 
kins’ Hall and talked religion to him on the 
way home and between the sets. But how Satan 
must have rejoiced, for my inconsistency drove 
my husband into infidelity ; and it was long years 
before I regained what I had lost ; frittered 
away. To be sure, after my marriage I only 
danced at private entertainments, but I never 
heard God recognized in any manner at such a 
party ; and I lost my relish for prayer, and soon 
ceased my effort for the conversion of my hus- 
band. My health was undermined by late 
hours and the violent exercise, and I spent five 
years of pain and weariness before I regained 
what I had thrown away, either physically or 
spiritually. 

“ Mr. Graves has told me since, that it was the 
fact that he saw so little difference in my habiti 
and pursuits after I had professed Christ that led 
him to renounce all faith in a religion which 
seemed to have so little power upon the lives of 
those who professed to be guided by its princi- 
ples. 


270 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

“ I tell you, Helen, don’t you try to be a danc- 
ing Christian. I have learned, by a long, bitter 
experience, that to be ‘ unspotted from the world ’ 
is to stand aloof from all questionable amuse- 
ments and employments ; to engage in nothing 
which crowds the love of Christ into the back- 
ground, and be sure that you will never lead a 
soul to Christ by any sort of a compromise with 
worldliness.” 

“ One question more,” said Helen. “ Does 
the Bible anywhere expressly forbid dancing ? ” 

Mrs. Vananden smiled. 

“ Does the Bible anywhere expressly forbid 
throwing stones at your neighbor’s windows ? ” 

Helen laughed, as she said : 

“ I never found the prohibition.” 

“Therefore you may throw stones,” added 
Mrs. Vananden. 

Helen helped to trim banners that evening, 
and between pauses of the talk her heart sent up 
its petition : 

“ Keep me unspotted from the world I ” 



CHAPTER XXII. 

CHKISTIAN GIVING. 

“ And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily as unto the Lord.** 

:S was Mr. Ried’s topic. His people 
had been accustomed, annually, to 
nerve themselves to listen to a dry dissertation 
upon the duty of the Christian Church to sup- 
port the mission cause, interspersed with more 
dryness, in the shape of statistics, gathered from 
the Missionary Record or Herald^ these same 
statistics being the dryest of all reading to those 
uninterested in the reports. Mr. Ried had been 
sorely grieved over the indifference of the Court 
Street people in regard to the subject of benevo- 
371 



272 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

lence, and sorely puzzled, too, as to how to bring 
about a different state of things. Personally he 
had no cause of complaint. His salary was al- 
ways promptly paid, and his people were ready 
to take up his burdens ; but to give for objects 
outside they were not so ready. Were new fur- 
naces needed, the older men were ready, with 
open purses, to meet the expense ; was it new 
library books, the money could be raised without 
difficulty ; was it a picnic, the young men were 
ready to meet the expenses incident to a first- 
class affair; and there was the Young Ladies’ 
Association, with its crochet-work and its slipper- 
bags, and card-receivers, with its fairs and fes- 
tivals, stepping in to fill a gap here and there in 
the need of the church; but let there come an 
appeal for help for the Zulu Mission, or for some 
newly-organized church in the West, struggling 
to build a simple, unpretending house of wor- 
ship, and these same Court Street people would 
most likely fold their arms closely over the 
breast-pocket and dolefully sigh over the “ many 
calls for money.” 

While growing in the grace of “ brotherly 
love,” the growth had been too narrow to reach 


CJirutian Giving, 


273 


out and embrace the masses outside. The eradi- 
cation of this selfishness, and the expanding of 
the thoughts and interests of his people, so as to 
include a world, was the object for which the 
pastor was seeking. Could he make them see 
the deformity of Christian character which would 
inevitably grow out of these habits of thinking 
and acting ? The whole lesson of Christ’s life 
was one of giving. A giving that had in it not 
the thought of personal gain, but of personal 
sacrifice. Would they, who, having accepted 
the richest of his gifts, professed to learn of him 
turn away from the great lesson of giving? and 
would they persist in thinking and speaking of 
benevolence as a duty, when, in truth, it is a 
great, a blessed privilege ? 

The work being the Master’s, and they the 
honored stewards, holding for him the things of 
this world, could they not bring their ideas of 
benevolence up to a higher plane than this, the 
goading of duty ? A man should not ask how 
little it will do to give, but, rather, how much 
can I give ? What does the Lord call for of his 
own ? 

God could carry on his work without our help, 


274 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

even to the preaching of the gospel to the hea- 
then in the darkest corner of the world. He 
could irradiate these midnight regions with the 
light of Christ’s love and the glory of his salva- 
tion ; but he has chosen to make us co-workers 
with himself, that in us might be cultivated the 
grace of giving, Christ’s whole life was a gift, 
and this made all his gifts unto us more precious. 
The comforting words that come to us in the 
midst of our griefs, are they not the more comfort- 
ing because He, by whom they were uttered 
suffered in like manner? The strength that is 
promised for the hour of temptation, does it not 
support and brace, as we remember, that into 
that sinless life there came a corresponding 
temptation ? Is it not the putting of ourselves 
into our gifts that makes them of value ? Then, 
shall we not learn to give because we want to, 
as well as because we ought ? As to the oughts 
we can have no doubts : “ According to the 
blessing of the Lord thy God which he hath 
given thee.” “ Charge them that are rich in this 
world, * * * that they do good, that they 

be rich in good works, ready to distribute, will 
ing to communicate.” 


Christian Giving, 


275 


But while we all acknowledge the duty of 
beneficence, how many of us count it a precious 
privilege to give freely, even as we have freely 
received ? Oh, that we could get above the 
level of the sort of giving, that if it does not be- 
stow grudgingly, at least has none of the delight 
of real Christian giving I Let us rejoice that we 
are thus honored of God ; made the instruments 
of carrying the gospel message into all the world, 
even the uttermost parts I Let us educate our 
children to “give as they pray, from the heart, 
and as a means of grace.” 

Mr. Ried had some eager listeners that day. 
Helen Betson with her usual interest, followed 
him all through, though she wondered where her 
portion would come in. The subject was one 
which liad, thus far, failed to gain her attention, 
further than that she dropped her money into 
the box quite as a matter of course. Now that 
she considered it a little, she was forced to con- 
fess that she had no better reason than the com- 
mon one, that it was a proper thing to do. All 
at once it dawned upon her that she was privi- 
leged to help on the cause of Christ. It came 
like a wonderful revelation, and with it came re- 


276 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

flection, of how little she had been doing of this 
work : “ According to the blessing of the Lord 
thy God which he hath given you.” To Helen 
these words came with a double meaning, 
“According to the blessing.” Abundantly had 
the Lord blessed her with every good gift. 
Her Lord and Saviour had given himself ; there- 
fore, should she keep back the offering of her 
own life ? Rather let her give herself, and with 
her money let her give her sympathy, her in- 
terest, her prayers. The whole subject of be- 
nevolence stood out from everything else, illumi- 
nated with the light of the word of God. How 
plain it all seemed to her. Her life and her means 
might be but little to give, yet, had not God 
chosen the weak things to confound the mighty ? 
and would he not use her and her gifts for his 
own glory ? The little sum that she had thought 
to give that morning, suddenly seemed very small 
to her, and she was glad that a month’s allow- 
ance had just been paid, that she might begin at 
once to give according to her new rule — “ Ac- 
cording to the blessing of the Lord,” and with 
the spirit of thankfulness for the privilege. 

Mr. Bates seemed not quite satisfied with the 


Christian Giving, 


277 


sermon, if one might judge from the remarks 
which he made to his wife, who was not pres- 
ent at church. 

“ It is the day for Foreign Missions,” he said, 
“ and I must say that we had the queerest anni- 
versary sermon, this morning, that I ever heard. 
There was not a word of Foreign Missions in it 
from beginning to end, nor any kind of missions.” 

“What did he preach about?” asked Mrs. 
Bates, whose confidence in her pastor’s good 
sense was by no means shaken by her husband’s 
imputation of queeruess. 

“Well, his subject was “Christian Giving.” 
He told us that while benevolence should be a 
settled principle, we ought to get above the sim- 
ple thoughts of duty, and give from love of it. 
He gave us some good thoughts, but not a single 
bit of information.” 

“ Ah ! And how many copies of the Mission- 
ary Herald are taken in the congregation?” 
asked Mrs. Bates. 

“ About fifty, I think,” returned the gentle- 
man. 

“ Indeed I It is a pity he had not thought to 
give a few statistics to a congregation with such 


278 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


limited means of knowing things for them- 
selves ! ” said ]\Irs. Bates, sarcastically. 

“ Well,” persisted Mr. Bates, “it would have 
been in keeping with the occasion, if he had 
spoken somewhat at length of the importance of 
the work and of its progress.” 

To this remark the lady made no response, but 
presently she asked : 

“ How about the collection ? ” 

The gentleman grew animated at once, and 
replied, promptly : 

“ The best we have had for years I I think it 
was double that of last year.” 

“ Pity about the sermon I ” said his wife, as if 
she had not heard the reply to her question. 

Mr. Bates looked at her curiously, and re- 
plied ; 

“Oh? the sermon was well enough.” 

“ So T should judge,” she returned ; adding : 
“ I presume that you gave the same as usual to 
the cause ? ” 

Mr. Bates hesitated, wondering what prompted 
the question ; finally he answered : 

“Well, no; I gave just double the amount 
which I calculated to.” 


Christian Giving. 


279 


“ Ah I How did that happen ? 

“ I am sure I can’t tell ; only it seemed a 
pleasant thing to do, and I knew that even that 
was not as God has prospered us.” 

Mrs. Bates smiled, and thought within herself; 

Whatever the sermon may have been, it seems 
to have done its work. I don’t think we need 
question the wisdom or appropriateness of 
preaching that brings forth good results.” 

On his way down to evening service Mr. Nor- 
ton Graves stepped in to consult Mr. Bates about 
a notice to be given out from the desk. You 
see Mr. Graves had stepped into the business 
matters of the church as though he had always 
belonged there. 

“ What did you think of the sermon this 
morning ? ” asked ]\Ir. Bates. 

“ Think of it I Why, I have been tliinking of 
it all the afternoon ; and I have concluded that 
we have, as a rule, very slight conceptions as to 
the height of privilege to which God would exalt 
us. The words, “ co-workers with God,” raise 
one to a summit of blessing and honor scarcely 
to be realized. I feel as if we must open our 
hearts to take in the whole world ; it is full of 


280 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

sin and sorrow, blindness and degradation ; and 
we, who have been healed, must hasten to spread 
the glad news of the healing power.” 

“ Yes, it is true ; we are not doing all we 
might,” returned Mr. Bates, who decided that it 
would not do to criticise a sermon which had 
given rise to such impulses as these. “ I have 
always meant to give liberally ; but I felt this 
morning that I had been niggardly in my con- 
tributions to enterprises outside our own 
church.” 

“ If, as individuals, we find that, as we go out- 
side our own souls and seek to help others, we 
bring a blessing upon ourselves, so, I suppose 
that, as a church, we may expect to increase, 
even by scattering.” 

“ Old Deacon Barnard used to say that Solo- 
mon spoke the literal truth in the text which you 
have partly quoted, and that the Lord always 
returned to him many fold all that he gave to 
the cause of benevolence,” said Mrs, Bates. 

“ Then, if one could bring himself to take so 
low a view of the matter, it would pay, as a 
pecuniary investment, to be liberal,” said Mr. 
Bates. 


Christian Giving* 


281 


“ That, certainly, is not the highest view to 
take of it,” replied the other gentleman ; “ but 
the thought may not be unworthy of considera- 
tion. If, as we were told this morning, we give 
as a privilege, we may surely be glad to know 
that, by our giving, we shall not be impoverished, 
but still have something to give. I suppose 
that if we could get into that habit of mind that 
would lead us to thank the solicitor for the op- 
portunity to give, we should come nearer the 
Bible thought about the matter.” 

Mr. Bates did not reply immediately. This 
young brother was reaching and grasping the 
sweet mysteries of the Christian’s life, its duties 
and privileges, in a way that astonished this man, 
who had been years in the race, and he thought 
within himself : “ The ground must have been 
well prepared for the seed when it makes such a 
rapid and vigorous growth, and, looking back for 
a little, he reflected how earnest had been the 
effort of the pastor to so present the truth, that 
all might have a clear perception of the great 
principles underlying all Christian living ; and so 
there came to this man the conviction that many 
of his criticisms upon the style of preaching had 


282 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

been wasted. He was conscious, in his own 
soul, of a growth beyond that of other years. 
How was it, that after living so long, compara- 
tively inactive, in the service of Christ, he had 
been stirred to effort, even to personal effort, for 
the saving of a soul ? ” When he spoke again 
he said : 

“ Well, I suppose if we could get at the Bible 
thought, about most things, we should find things 
cleared up a good deal.” 

Mr. Graves rose to go. 

“ About this notice. Do you think it best to 
add that a collection will be taken for the benefit 
of the cause at the close of the lecture ? Of 
course, the object of presenting the subject is to 
awaken an interest, so as to gain supporters ; but 
how will our people receive it? ” 

“Judging from to day’s collection they will be 
ready. Yes ; announce a collection by all means ; 
at least, state that there will be an opportunity 
to contribute,” was Mr. Bates’ ready reply. 

And this was the man who had been accus- 
tomed to excuse himself too often from contribut- 
ing to various causes foreign to themselves, by 
'quoting the old adage, “ Charity begins at 


Chrutian Giving. 


283 


home.” What had become of prudence in these 
matters ? 

On his way to the church Mr. Graves met two 
or three others, to whom he spoke of this matter 
and found that their views corresponded with 
those of himself and Mr. Bates ; so he thought 
Mr. Ried seemed a little doubtful. 

“ I am satisfied that we ought to give liberally 
to this cause,” he said ; “ but you know our peo- 
ple do not respond very promptly to the calls of 
the collection-box, and I always feel ashamed of 
a small result.” 

“ Well,” responded Mr. Graves, “ I think we 
had better try it. I am inclined to think that 
our education is progressing.” 




CHAPTER XXIII. 



FEAGMENTS. 

‘ Gather up the fragments that remain that nothing be lost” 

EANTIME, at the Elmers, they had been 
looking forward to changes in their life, 
changes with which the ‘'•something,” that Prof. 
Graves wanted to “ talk over with his brother, 
had largely to do — changes which would fall 
sadly upon Rachel. Mrs. Norton Graves was 
there, spending a day, helping Lydia with her 
sewing, when Mrs. Coville ran in for a word with 
Rachel. Carrying her sad heart and heavy bur- 
dens, she often came to Rachel for counsel and 
comfort. 


284 


Fragments, 


285 


“ I don’t know how it is,” she said to Mrs. 
Graves, as they sat together, while Rachel went 
to hunt out a bit of cloth to match the gray of 
Freddy Coville’s pants ; “ once I should never 
have thought of coming to Rachel for such a 
thing, not that I ever thought her penurious, or 
nnwilling to grant a favor ; but it seemed so un- 
like her to want to take the trouble to help any 
one ; she and Lydia seldom needed to ask 
favors, and it was always very hard to come to 
them ; it seemed as if they didn’t like the bother 
of it.” 

“ And now? ” asked Mrs. Graves. 

“ Why, Rachel Elmer is the best friend I 
have ! And iiow different things are here in this 
old house ! They used to be so much alone ; 
but since they got to living so much for other 
folks, this house has come to be the dropping-in 
place of the neighbors.” 

“ Yes,” replied Mrs. Graves, “and I sometimes 
wonder how Rachel has reconciled herself to the 
surrender of the old-time quiet and order of the 
place.” 

“ And these new-comers,” said Mi’s. Coville ; 
“ it seems very queer to hear the little girl go- 


286 


UcTioing and Re-echoing, 


ing about the house, up and down stairs, follow- 
ing Miss Rachel about, as though she had lived 
here all her life.” 

“ Yes, indeed ; strange, but providental,” re- 
turned Mrs. Graves. 

This was the story of the new-comers. 
Away back, during the stormy, blustering March 
days, there had come to the sisters a message 
like this : 

Dear Ray : — Can you come to me, for the 
sake of the dear mother, mine by adoption ? Will 
you come ? Will you come to one who fears that 
she has not long to live ? 

Your cousin, Mary. 

Making a few hurried preparations, Rachel 
took a long journey, and a few days later Lydia 
received a letter. 

“Dear Lydia,” it ran, “you and I need not 
have worried about my loneliness when you were 
away ; the Lord has provided for this as for all 
other needs. Our Mary is not dying. The doc- 
tor says that with rest of body and mind she may 
live for years ; and this rest, which she needs, I 
propose to give her, as far as I can. Only Gnd 


FragmenU. 


287 


can give peace to the soul ; yet, with worldly 
cares off her mind, I trust that she will not be 
unmindful of Him who has, thus far, cared for 
her. As soon as she can be moved, wliich may 
be in a fortnight, I shall bring her home, with 
her daughter, another Ray. Her husband’s death 
quite overcame her, and she has never recovered 
from the prostration which followed. They are 
not poor ; and she insists upon making it a con- 
dition of her retnrn with me, that she be allowed 
to pay for her board. I do not believe that I 
will give up the school, and I have been think- 
ing about asking Mrs. Gordon to take the posi- 
tion of housekeeper in my establishment. She is 
in want of a home, and is of the household of 
faith ; however, we can talk this all over when I 
get back.” 

All this came about to the surprise of every- 
body. It seemed like a revolution in their way 
of living. This introduction of three people, and 
of them a rollicking girl, would be likely to dis- 
turb the quiet serenity of the old house more 
than the dar'Iy coming and going of Rachel’s 
little scholars ; but Rachel always insisted that 
they being thus thrown upon her care was a 


288 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


special providence, and one of her special causes 
for gratitude. 

Coming in now with her bit of gray cloth, 
which she was sure she had somewhere, but 
which it had taken a long time to find, she 
seemed to her friends to have grown young in 
the last few months — and she felt younger, too. 
Tlie fresh, young life of her namesake, infused 
into her own, brightened everything, and she 
found there was more to live for than she had 
fancied in the days when she spent hours and 
weeks and months working canvas screens. 
The very screens which had so annoyed Lydia 
stood now before the open fire-place, in a hand- 
some frame, and Rachel sometimes smiled to 
herself as she looked at it and wondered how she 
ever found time to work canvas scenes ! 

The days flew by, and the morning came on 
which Lydia Elmer was to be married to Pro- 
fessor Graves. Only a very few guests were in- 
vited — just Mr. and Mrs. Norton Graves, Dr. 
and Mrs. Vananden, with Tom and Helen and 
Mr. Niles, and Mr. Lee, with a few neighbors. 

The matter of the bride’s dress had been the 
cause of much discussion between the sisters. 


Fragments, 


289 


Rachel had some old-fashioned ideas as to an ap- 
propriate costume for the occasion ; she thought 
it should be either white or very light silk, and a 
vail, with orange blossoms, was indispensable. 
Lydia argued that such a costume would be a 
needless expense. 

“ You know,” she said, “ That I look like a 
fright in light colors ; and I should never wear 
the dress again, though I might consent to make 
myself look ugly for once, and that, when I ought 
to look my prettiest I ” 

But Rachel’s motlier was married in a white 
brocade, that stood alone and had been kept 
sacredly, to be handed down as an heirloom. 
Lydia having worn it once, in her school days, 
when she appeared at an “ Old Folks’ Concert,’’ 
declared now that she had enough of white silk 
dresses ; but the question of useless expense 
finally gained the day. Rachel held out long 
and fought bravely for her ideas of propriety. 

“ What do people do who can’t get silk 
dresses ? ” asked Lydia, “ Mustn’t they get mar- 
ried because they must disregard the proprie- 
ties?” 

“ Well, I can’t say that I think it would affect 


290 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

the validity of the ceremony,” replied Rachel, 
laughing ; “ but so long as we can afford it, and 
it is such a pleasant old-time idea, and has such 
associations, I can not bear to think of you 
in any other costume. I feel about it just as I 
do about the Thanksgiving dinners ; there is a 
great deal of unnecessary work and expense con- 
nected with an orthodox Thanksgiving dinner ; 
but the associations are sacred, and it seems like 
a religious sacrifice, and then, as certain things 
are appropriate and sacred to the house of God 
and the sacraments, so it seems to me that these 
things belong to the wedding feast. And as to 
those who can not afford them, why, it is just 
this, it is having the best you can afford.” 

But Lydia could not be convinced that it was 
her duty to make a martyr of herself in wearing 
a white silk dress, and she had veiy little of the 
reverence for ancient customs and habits which 
held Rachel to an observance of many things that 
seemed, very foolish to the younger sister. With 
Rachel it was an almost morbid, worshiping pas- 
sion, for that which bore the stamp of antiquity. 
The quaint old house, with its antique furniture ; 
its cabinets and its closets, filled with relics of 


Fragments, 


291 


those who had dwelt in the old house for three 
or tour generations, were among her dearest treas- 
ures. And now this youngest and only remain- 
ing sister proposed to adopt the modern fashion 
of being married in a brown poplin traveling 
suit I 

It was Mr. Ried’s sermon on Christian giving 
that reached down through this worshipful love 
and put into Rachel’s heart such thoughts of the 
beauty of benevolence, that, for* the first time in 
her life, she was sorry she had not more to give, 
and, as for Lydia, she laid a note upon the plate, 
saying to herself : 

“ There goes the vail ! I hope Ray will give 
the dress I ” 

Whether she did or not, white silk dresses and 
orange flowers suddenly lost favor, and she sewed 
away on the brown poplin as contentedly as 
though she had never thought on any other 
material for the bridal costume. 

The newly-married pair were to leave at once 
for the West, where Professor Graves expected 
to take up the work of an evangelist. His 
labors at the Harley Mission had developed an 
amount of latent talent that had surprised both 


292 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

himself and his friends ; and now that there were 
others to take up the work he was going to a 
wider field. The heart of the pastor rejoiced 
that they were able to send out into the fields 
beyond their own borders such efficient workers. 
Dr. Baumes had gone to a place w'here Christian 
workers were greatly needed, and now these 
two were going. Tom Betson, the manly boy, 
all aglow with zeal, was entering upon a period 
of preparation for his life-work, but in the mean- 
time was reaching out, seeking to draw within 
the field his companions. One other was about 
to go forth as a worker, but Mr. Ried did not 
know of this as yet. 

During the hour devoted to congratulations 
and “ refreshments Mr. Lee and Lydia had a 
bit of talk. 

“You remember the words you said to me a 
few weeks ago about the way to find out one’s 
duty.” 

“ 1 remember the talk to which you refer,” she 
said, “ though I do not remember what I said.” 

“ I told you that it was a question that puzzled 
me, whether I should go or stay,” said Mr. Lee : 
“ but I think the question is decided.” 


Fragments, 


293 


And you ? — ” 

“ Go I That last Thursday’s prayer-meeting 
talk decided me. I thought before when I 
talked with you that I only needed to know the 
way, and I would ‘ go forward,’ but I found that 
there was something else in the way. I had 
not acknowledged the ‘authority of Jesus,’ 
but listening to Mr. Ried’s remarks upon that 
text, and his application of it to the two men at 
work by the sea, I began to realize that the calls 
of the Lord are imperative. He said : ‘ Come ye 
after me : And straightway they forsook their 
nets and followed him. ’ ” 

It was Lydia who quoted the verse, and Mr. 
Lee responded : 

“Yes, ‘straightway’ they acknowledged his 
authority and rendered prompt obedience, though 
they knew not whither he would lead them. 
And consider the result ! To these and others 
was afterward given the command to preach to 
‘ all nations.’ Those men were, I suppose, as 
full of business concerns in their way as I am in 
mine. If I have any talent he wants that, or 
any latent — here he smiled — ‘ energy ’ he wants 
that. Shall I leave all and follow him in that 


294 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


way? I tell you, Mrs. Graves,” Lydia started 
to hear herself addressed by that name, “ I know 
that the Master’s vineyard is suffering for the 
want of laborers ; can I hold back? ” 

“ No you can not^"* she answered. 

“ So I think : therefore I shall close my office 
here as soon as I can make a transfer of my 
business, and get at once into the work of pre- 
paration.” 

“ For the regular ministry ? ” asked Mrs. 
Graves. 

“ I think so ; I have counseled with no one ex- 
cept your husband, but I shall see Mr. Ried, to- 
day. I felt the thrill of that command all through 
me all day last Sabbath, and it seems as if there 
were nothing for me but to preach the gospel.” 

“I am glad that you are going to do it,” re- 
turned Lydia, “ but what has become of your 
idea which you labored so earnestly to persuade 
Tom Betson into, last fall, that Christian lawyers 
were needed, and he might better study law with 
you than to study theology ? ” 

“ That idea has resolved into this, that while 
lawyers should be Christians as the ministerial 
profession is far more important than the legal, it 


Fragments, 


295 


has stronger claims upon those who have a fit- 
ness for it. I have no great fondness for law 
and I do not know that I have any especial fit- 
ness for the work of the ministry ; but this I am 
sure of, it is better to try to persuade men not to 
quarrel than to help them settle quarrels.” 

“ But so long as men will quarrel there must 
be some one to help them back to peace,” said 
Lydia. 

True ; and I am not sure that in nine cases 
out of ten the minister would not do better work 
the case than the lawyer.” 

“ Especially if he were half lawyer,” she said, 
laughing. 

Then her husband came to say that it was time 
to go, and she held out her hand, saying, “ Well, 
Mr. Lee, I can only repeat what I said before, 
‘ Go forward.* ** 

“ Thank you.” 

And so the workers parted, to meet perhaps 
this side, perhaps that. And Kachel gathered 
up the fragments of the feast, feeling as if there 
wore other fragments to be gathered up. Just 
then she realized that there is nothing whole oi 
complete in this life, nevertheless the command 


296 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


is, “ Gather up the fragments, that nothing be 
lost.” Should she not, then, use the remnant of 
her life for the Master of the feast ? 

And Mr. Lee, had he aught but fragments to 
give to the Master? He had spent the early 
morning in idle indifference to the claim which 
he now acknowledged. He had acquired habits 
of thinking that would always be a trouble and 
vexation. He had spent years in studies and 
pursuits that could be of very little advantage to 
him in the calling for which he was now about to 
be fitted. 

And yet this is the command of the Lord him- 
self, “ Gather up the fragments.” 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

UP THE MOUNTAIN. 

“ Looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of oul 
Faith.” 

^^^LEN! Helen!’’ 

It was Jenny Vosburgh’s voice that 
came up to Helen as she sat in her own room 
one summer morning engaged in the very 
interesting occupation of darning stockings. 
There were at least a dozen things that she would 
rather be doing at that very moment ; but stock- 
ings had a very provoking way of wearing out 
and Helen had periodical spasms of order, and 
one of them had come upon her this morning. 
She recognized Jenny’s voice, and answered, 
cheerily : 


297 


298 Echoing and Re-echoing* 

“ Well I come up ! ” 

Helen’s opinion of her old schoolmate had 
changed somewhat since that day when she 
fought with her conscience over her duty to be 
kind and helpful toward Jenn 3 \ Three years 
in passing had brought many changes. Jenny 
had been away, first at school, then traveling 
considerably, and had developed qualities of mind 
and heart which made her more attractive than 
of old ; and, best of all, she was an earnest Chris- 
tian. Dr. and Mrs. Vananden were still with 
Mrs. Betson, having found their home there so 
pleasant that they had never gone to housekeep- 
ing again ; and Mrs. Vananden was still the 
friend and counselor of Helen Betson, and now 
Jenny had been drawn within the circle of her 
influence. It is really wonderful, the power of 
one consecrated life in shaping and molding 
the character of young girls brought under the 
influence of that life ! Helen had grown to be 
quite content, though her path had not been 
quite smooth. There had been the little inequal- 
ities of the everyday walk, light weights to be 
cast aside, besetting sins to be overcome, obstacles 
to be overcome, such as all meet with ; and, 


TJjp The Mountain. 


299 


add<;d to these, there had been a few darker days 
in the history of the last year, days of struggle 
and pain, days when to express her feelings would 
have been to cry out, “ If it be possible, let me 
not drink of this bitter cup ! ’’ But there soon 
came the needed strength, and she could say, 
“ Not my will, but thine ! ” And as she re- 
sponded to Jenny’s salutation, there was no trace 
of the conflict, except the added sweetness and 
beauty of her face. 

Out on the hillside, where Robert Niles had 
begun his career as a Christian worker, a neat 
little church was fast approaching completion, and 
Jenny’s errand was to invite Helen to ride out to 
Clarkson. 

“ Mr. Niles has invited us both, and he will be 
around in half an hour,’’ explained Jenny. “ Can 
you leave those horrid stockings, and go with 
us?” 

Helen’s spasm of putting to rights yielded to 
Jenny’s energetic treatment, the prospect of a 
ride proving a positive antidote. 

“ To be sure I’ll go,” she said, promptly ; and 
tossing her work into the basket to wait for 
another spasm, she ran down to tell her mother, 


300 Echoing and Re-Echoing, 

and arrange with the cook about certain mattera 
pertaining to the dinner, and then came back to 
hurry into an appropriate toilet. One tiling was 
noticeable about Helen Betson ; her toilets were 
always appropriate. No matter what the hour, 
the occasion, or the weather, she was always pro- 
perly dressed. The neat gray dress and wrap, 
relieved by the blue wing that ornamented the 
hat, which exactly matched the dress in color, 
made a very suitable toilet for a ride out into the 
country. It was one of those matchless summer 
mornings, when earth and sk}^ and the very air 
we breathe, are full of the glory of the Creator. 
The quiet dignity of Mr. Niles did not particular- 
ly check the liveliness of Miss Jenn}^ That 
young lad}’- was quite irrepressible, though she 
expected soon to occupy the position of the wdfe 
of one of the most influential business men of the 
city, and one equally eminent as a working 
Christian, none other than Mr. Niles himself I 
Of course she was interested in the new church 
out at Clarkson ! 

After an hour’s ride they came out upon the 
“ Ridge,” as it was called, and stopped at a curve 
of the road to take a look down the valley upon 


Up The Mountain, 


801 


the little city ])elow, the river, the busy fac- 
tories, and the farming country lying around all. 

“ How high up we are I ” exclaimed Jenny. 
“ I haven’t realized at all that we were getting so 
far above the level of the city” 

“ And yet 3’ou know that there was a height 
to be attained ? ” questioned IMr. Niles. 

“ Yes ; but I suppose I had an idea that we 
were to make a steady ascent, all the time going 
up ; instead of that we have had so much down- 
hill that I had not realized that we were actually 
making progress upward.” 

“ Well, 3^011 see, our down-hills did not take us 
quite down into the valley, and each upward 
stroke has brought us a little higher than we 
were before,” said Mr. Niles. 

“I see,” returned Jenny; “but suppose we 
had not come quite so far up, and had just 
stopped down there at Mr. Davis’ ? ” 

“ Well? ” questioned the gentleman, not quite 
falling in with her thought. 

“ Why, you see, if we had not come up to just 
this point, but had stopped a little short of it, we 
should never have known that we had risen at 


all.” 


302 


Echoing and Re-echoing, 


“ Are you sure of that ? ” Were you not con- 
scious of breathing a purer atmosphere, of being 
lifted above the smoke, and the din and turmoil 
of the life down there ? ” returned Mr. Niles. 

“Well, yes; only I didn’t put it so. T knew 
that I was happy, but I didn’t think about its 
being the purity of the atmosphere that made me 
so,” said Jenny. 

“ And you find in this an illustration of our 
climbing in a spiritual sense ? ” questioned Mr. 
Niles. “ Is that your thought ? ” 

“ Yes ; I was thinking about Mr. Ried’s ser- 
mon last Sabbath morning. It must be worth a 
few struggles to attain such a height as that 
which he spoke of so glowingly ; and the climb- 
ing, that seems very much like this we have done 
to-day, plenty of down-hill. Sometimes I think 
it is most all down ! ” This last with a half 
sigh. 

“But when you come out in the clear light, 
and look back along the way in which 3"ou have 
been led, then you will see that there has been a 
gain,” replied Mr. Niles. 

Helen had been silent during this talk, her 
face wearing a thoughtful expression. Now 


Up The Mountains. 


303 


Jenny turned suddenly toward her, and said: 

“ Helen, what have you steeping in that busy 
brain of yours ? I know by your face that you 
‘ have a thought, ’ as we say in the game.” 

“It is nothing,” returned Helen; “only, 
might there not be a steady upward course, 
without these decents into the valleys, that 
make the journey so long and tiresome ? ” 

“Oh, you would have a graded path,” said 
Jenny, laughing. “ Those are modern inven- 
tions, and I don’t believe we will ever apply the 
principle to the religious life.” 

“ Perhaps not ; but all climbing is not like 
this we have done today ; some hills have half- 
way places, where ynu may halt and take a re- 
trospective view, instead of waiting until you 
reach the summit. It seems as though we ought 
to know if we are gaining anything.” 

“ And all Christian experience is not alike. If 
we come into the possession of the rest of trust, 
we may not attain it in the same way that others 
have. You know Mr. Ried said that one might 
suddenly come into the light and blessedness of 
this stage of progress, recognizing it as a most 
wonderful lifting up of the soul toward heaven 


804 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

and Christ. All at once burdens will drop away, 
selfishness and bitterness will be taken out of the 
heart, and rest and love and perfect peace will 
take their place. Or all might come upon one 
gradually, little by little, without a consciousness 
of any time when this new trust, this oneness 
with Christ, was attained. But the blessed re- 
sults are in any case the same.” This from Mr. 
Niles, as they drove slowly along the Ridge 
road. 

“We were talking the matter over at home,” 
said Jenny, “and I said that if it was all true, 
that we might claim the promise and have the 
indwelling of the Spirit. Why don’t we, for 
surely we all, as Christians, desire it, and wliat is 
to hinder?” And Mrs. Vananden said that it 
was because we would not make room for 
Christ; that he could not come with the fullness 
of his power into a heart which held aught which 
was displeasing to the Holy Spirit. 

“Yes,” returned Mr. Niles, “there are mauy 
things to hinder our progress. Our climbing 
must necessarily be slow and difficult so long as 
we carry heavy weights. We ought to heed the 


Up The Mountain, 


306 


words of the apostle, and ‘ lay aside every weight.* 
It is certainly our privilege to grow in grace.” 

Arriving at the spot where the new church 
was rapidly going up, Mr. Niles left the girls in 
the carriage while he went to speak to the men 
who were at work upon the building. 

“ AVhat an interest Robert takes in this work ! ** 
said Helen. “ But it is no wonder, for it has all 
grown out of the seed he planted here.” 

“ And who would have believed that a church 
would be built up here, or that the people would 
be strong enough to support a pastor 1 ” replied 
Jenny. 

“ Did I tell you I went down to the Harley 
Mission Chapel last Sabbath afternoon ? ” con- 
tinued Jenny. “ Mr. Niles has taken a class 
there, and Mr. Graves wants me to teach a class 
of boys. I have half promised, but I don’t feel 
as though I were fit to teach ; but he has prom- 
ised to let me off just as soon as he can find a 
better one.” 

Helen smiled, thinking that if that was the 
condition, Jenny would be likely to retain the 
class for a time at least. 

“ Did you know that Emma Patterson was 


806 Echoing and Re-echoing, 

teaching with Rachel Elmer?” asked Helen. 
“You remember she went to Boston to study the 
Kindergarten system, and now she is going to in- 
troduce it into Rachel’s school.” 

In these years “ Miss Elmer’s School for Little 
Girls” had become well known and popular, and, 
withal, a power in the neighborhood. Many a 
a young girl dated a new era in her life, both in- 
tellectual and religious, from her entrance into 
the school. The quaint old house, so unlike its 
neighbors, was growing to be wonderfully at- 
tractive to the little folks. How full Rachel’s 
life had become ! Suppose that Mrs. Coville, 
looking on and thanking God that he had raised 
up such a friend for herself and her children, 
never thought to look back to that evening when 
she grumbled over her pastor’s urgent appeal for 
more workers, and to connect her own little ef- 
fort, almost unconscious as the effort was, with 
the growing usefulness of this woman who had 
been roused from her stupor and set at work. 

“ When do you expect Tom ? ” asked Robert, 
as he returned to the carriage and took up the 
reins to drive on to the home of his old friend. 


Up The Mountain, 307 

Mr. Newton Clark, where they expected to 
dine. 

“Next week,” replied Helen. 

“ And will he stay until he enters the semi- 
nary?” 

“ I think so, though he may join Prof. Gravea* 
for a time. At last the Professor urges him to 
come, and I believe Mr. Ried thinks it would be 
a great advantage to him to learn sometliing of 
that particular work. Mother will be disap- 
pointed, but, she says that father gave Tom to 
the work, and she must not hinder him in his 
preparation.” 

It was after dinner, as they were left alone for 
a few moments, sitting on the piazza which 
over-looked the valle}", that Mr. Niles said to 
Helen : 

“ I had a letter from Mr. Lee last evening ; a 
good, noble letter. Helen, did you not make a 
mistake ? ” 

“ No, Robert, no ! I am sure I did not I ” And 
Helen flushed painfully. “ I told you this morn- 
ing,” she continued, “ that father gave Tom to 
the work of the ministrj^, and I think that the 


B08 Echoing and Re-echoing. 

Lord gave me to my mother. She needs me, and 
my j&rst duty is to her.” 

“Yes,” returned Robert; “I ought not to 
have spoken that way, but — ” 

“ Don’t speak of it,” said Helen, quickly. “ It 
has taken me long to understand the leadings of 
Providence, and I do not fully comprehend now. 
Years ago I prayed to be allowed to work for 
Christ in our own church, and thereupon God 
shut me up at home. But you know how he 
blessed me, even in my rebellion, by permitting 
me to be a help to my dear father. Then I was 
anxious to prepare for a teacher, thinking to do 
the Master service in that way, but the path was 
again closed, and a greater blessing awaited me. 
God filled my need in the friendship and counsel 
of dear Mrs. Vananden, and so it has been al- 
ways.” 

“ And in this last ? ” asked Robert tenderly. 

“ In this 1 do not yet see the recompense,” re- 
turned Helen ; “ but of this I am sure, that ‘ all 
things work together for good to them that love 
the Lord. ’ ” 

“ Mr. Lee writes that Dr. Baumes expects to 
go out to Japan with him,” said Mr. Niles. 


Up The Mountain, 309 

“ Our own church will be well represented in the 
mission field.” 

“ Yes, and after the harvest the laborers will 
all go home together,” said Helen softly. 


THE END. 



/ 


Selections from 

Lothrop Publishing Company’s 

List of Books 




I 



i 


Eben Holden 

By IRVING BACHELLER, ilmof gold lettered 
on red doth. $J^0 


TNCLE EB,” that plain, shrewd, kindly-hearted man 

^ of the fields and forests of Northern New York, is a 
creation. His story and that of his neighbors, as told in 
this attractive volume, made it an instant success within 
the first three months; 125,000 copies were printed to 
meet the demand, and critics, press, and public had only 
praise for it. Here are a very few of the opinions : — 

“ When books so bright and inspiring can be found, it 
is a pity those which portray only the seamy side of life 
should find so many readers. ‘ Eben Holden ’ is the ‘ Lorna 
Doone’ of American fiction.” — Interior. 

It is a forest-scented, fresh-aired, bracing, and wholly 
American story of town and country life.” — Edmund 
Clarence Stedman. 

“ There is not an impure thought or coarse expression 
in ^Eben Holden’ ; it is a book full of the gospel of cheer- 
fulness, upright living, and simple duty. It is good for 
any or all of us to know Uncle Eb.” — St. Louis Mirror. 

“It is as ‘pure as water and as good as bread.’” — Wil- 
liam Dean Howells. 

“‘Eben Holden’ is simply adorable.” — Mary E. 
Wilkins. 

“‘Eben Holden’ is a noble creation.” — Harriet 
Prescott Spofford. 

“ Uncle Eb is one of those characters whose acquaint- 
ance makes a man’s state more gracious.” — Brooklyn Eagle. 

“I pass the word along: ‘Read Eben Holden.’” — 
Margaret E. Sangster in Collier^ s Weekly. 


LOTHROP PUBLISHING COMPANY , . . BOSTON 



BOOKS BY ROUNSEVELLE WILDMAN 
U. S. CONSUL GENERAL AT HONG KONG 

China’s Open D oor 

A Sketch of Chinese Life and History with an intro- 
duction by HON, CHARLES DENBY, former U, S. 
minister to China, Illustrated, J2mo, gilt top, $1,50 

T his book is a splendid production. It does 
honor to the learning, the faculty of composi- 
tion, and the indefatigable industiy of the author. 
He has brought out many new facts, and his chronol- 
ogy of events is perfect. — Charles Denby. 


Tales of the Malayan Coast 

Illustrated by HENRY SANDHAM. t2mo, cloth, 
gilt top, $1,00 

“Mr. Wildman, like Rudyard Kipling, has fully absorbed 
the spirit of the East. It is not often one meets with tales as 
graphic and as brilliantly written. ” — N. Y. Home Journal. 


As Talked in the S anctum 

A Book about Men and Things, 12mo, cloth, gilt 
top, $1,00, 

¥ ¥ ♦ 

“ A delightful vein of blended humor and philosophy 
runs through these sketches.” — Boston Journal 


LOTHROP PUBLISH3S1G COMPANY, BOSTON 


Winning Out. 

A Book of Success. 

By ORISON SWETT HARDEN. J2mo, clotli, 
gilt top, illustrated. $1.00. 

D r. MARDEN, the editor of Success, has never pre- 
pared a more invigorating or inspiring book than 
this. It is really the first book he has designed for 
young people. To young men whose ambition is honor- 
able success, this book with its practical suggestions 
and its wealth of example has a value that is almost 
inestimable. If any young fellow of spirit does not, 
after reading this book, act up to the advice to Semproni- 
ous, he is lacking somewhere : 

“ ’T is not in mortals to command success 
But we’ll do more, Sempronious, we’ll achieve it.” 

Concerning Cats. 

My Own and Some Others. 

By HELEN M. WINSLOW. 8vo, cloth, gilt top, 
illustrated from photographs of famous cats. $1.50. 

T he first real “ cat book ” from a popular, practical, 
and entertaining standpoint. Miss Winslow is a 
pronounced cat-lover, and she here deals with the 
cats of history, the home and the cat-show in a manner 
that is at once attractive and exhaustive. Her book will 
find ready readers among cat-lovers and cat “ fanciers ” 
the world over. The photographic illustrations are beau- 
tiful. 


LOTHROP PUBLISHING COMPANY, . . BOSTON. 


The Story of the Nine- 
teenth Century 


By ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS. i2mo, cloth, illus- 
trated, $J.50 



'HE story of the wonderful century’* — its prog- 


ress, its achievements, its inventions, its develop- 
ment and its results — is here presented in a con- 
nected, simple, straightforward narrative, showing, as 
its main purpose, the progress of the people out of 
limitation to enlightenment, out of serfdom to inde- 
pendence, out of selfishness to nationality, out of 
absolutism to liberty. Chapter by chapter, it is an 
absorbing and often dramatic story, told by one who 
has made a study of popularizing history. 


In Blue and White 

A Story American Revolution 


One volume, 8vo, illustrated by Merrill, $1.50 



'HIS stirring story of the Revolution details the 


JL adventures of one of Washington’s famous life- 
guards, who is a college mate of Alexander Hamilton, 
and a personal follower of Washington. It is based 
upon a notable and dangerous conspiracy against the 
life of Washington in the early days of the Revolution, 
and introduces such famous characters as Washington, 
Hamilton, Greene, and Nathan Hale. It is a splen- 
did book for boys and girls. 



The Famous Pepper Books 

By MARGARET SIDNEY 


Five Little Peppers and How They Grew 

tlmOf illustrated^ $1*50 

*' A genuine child classic." 

Five Little Peppers Midway 

12mot illustratedt $1*50 

“ Every page is full of sunshine." — Detroit Free Press, 

Five Little Peppers Grov/n Up 

12inot fully illustrated, clotli, $1*50 

"The tale sparkles with life and animation. The young people are 
bright and jolly, and enjoy their lives as everybody ought to do." — 
Woman's yournal. 

Phronsie Pepper 

The Last of the Five Little Peppers 

Illustrated by Jessie McDermott. 12mo, cloth, $1*50 

T his dosing book of the now world-famous series of the " Five Little 
Pepper Books " has been enthusiastically welcomed by all the boys 
and girls of America to whom the Five Little Peppers have been dear ever 
since they first appeared in the " Little Brown House." This new book is 
the story of Phronsie, the youngest and dearest of all the Peppers. But 
Polly and Joel and Ben and Jasper and Mamsie, too, are all in the story. 

The Stories Polly Pepper Told 

One volume, 12mo. Illustrated by Jessie McDermott 
and Etheldred B. Barry, $1*50 

A CHARMING " addenda " to the famous " Five Little Pepper Stories." 

It is a unique plan of introducing old friends anew. Wherever there 
exists a child or a "grown-up" to whom the Pepper family has become 
dear, there will be a loving and vociferous welcome for these charming, 
characteristic, and delightful " Stories Polly Pepper Told.” 















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